BX  8495   .A52  S6  1882 
Smith,  George  Gilman,  1836- 
1913 

The  life  and  letters  of 


A  rv  /^  r- 


BY    THE    SAME  AUTHOR. 


HISTORY  OF  METHODISM  IN  GEORGIA  AND  FLORIDA. 

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i 


THR  JAN  T 


LIFE  AND  LETTERB-^^^^^^-^ 


VMES  Osgood  "Indrew, 


BISHOP  OF  THE  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  SOUTH. 


GLANCES  AT  HIS  COTEMPORARIES  AND 
AT  EVENTS  IN  CHURCH  HISTORY, 


BY 

The  Rev.  GEORGE  G.  SMITH,  A.M. 


*'  Victory  !  Victory  ! " — His  last  words. 


NASHVILLE,  TENN. : 

SOUTHERN  METHODIST  PUB.  HOUSE. 
JNO.  W.  Burke  &  Co.,  Macon,  Ga. 
Shaw  &  Blalock,  Galveston,  Texas. 
1882. 


Copyright  by 
GEORGE  G.  SMITH,  Jr. 
1882. 


Trow's 

Printing  and  Bookbinding  Company, 
201-213  Twelfth  Street^ 

NEW  YORK. 


?DeMcation. 


TO 

THE   YOUNG    PREACHERS   OF    THE  TRAVELING  CONNECTION 
OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH  SOUTH, 

THIS  STORY 

OF  ONE  OF  THE  MOST  FAITHFUL  AND  USEFUL  OF  THE  FATHERS, 
IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


PREFACE. 


"  I  ^HE  gifted  and  saintly  Bishop  Marvin  was  selected 
by  the  family  as  the  biographer  of  Bishop  An- 
drew. There  was  a  peculiar  fitness  in  the  selection, 
and  he  readily  acceded  to  the  wish  of  the  Bishop's 
children,  and  visited  Alabama  to  secure  material  for 
the  work.  He  made  all  his  arrangements  to  begin  it 
at  once.  The  mandate  of  the  Episcopal  College  sent 
him  around  the  world  before  he  wrote  a  Hne.  He 
died  soon  after  his  return,  and  the  materials  he  had 
collected  were  returned  to  the  friends  in  Alabama. 
Another  was  then  selected,  a  gifted  man,  who  would 
gladly  have  done  the  work,  but  that  other  and  press- 
ing duties  forbade. 

I  was  then  requested  to  undertake  it.  I  cheerfully 
consented,  and  now  give  the  reader  the,  result  of  my 
labor. 

I  have  attempted  no  more  than  a  simple  narration 
of  the  events  of  his  life,  and  an  accurate  portrayal  of 
his  character. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Rush,  of  the  Alabama  Conference, 
son-in-law  of  Bishop  Andrew,  has  materially  aided  me, 


viii  Preface. 

and  so  has  Judge  Merriwether,  another  son-in-law,  and 
his  gentle  daughter,  Annie,  the  Bishop's  grandchild. 

The  life  of  the  man  who  was  the  central  figure  in 
1844,  brings  a  matter  to  the  front  which  many  would 
be  glad  to  see  left  in  the  obscurity  which  has  been 
gathering  around  it  for  these  forty  years  gone  by.  I 
certainly  have  no  disposition  to  revive  old  animosities. 
I  do  not  think  I  have  said  anything  calculated  to  do 
so.  It  has  been  mine  to  narrate,  not  to  acquit,  nor  to 
condemn.  The  authority  to  which  I  have  constantly 
deferred  in  my  narrative  of  these  events  is  the  ''Journal 
of  the  General  Conference  of  1844." 

I  have  not  attempted. to  give  my  authorities  for  the 
facts  of  this  book.  I  have  consulted  all  the  printed 
literature  bearing  upon  the  subject  within  my  reach, 
as  well  as  letters,  journals,  and  the  personal  recollec- 
tions of  friends. 

The  work  has  been  so  long  delayed  that  I  have  not 
felt  at  liberty  to  hold  it  back  for  a  longer  time  that  I 
might  give  it  more  careful  preparation.  Satisfied  it 
is  in  the  main  a  correct  picture  of  one  of  the  ablest 
and  best  of  men,  I  give  it  to  the  Church,  praying  that 
God  will  make  it  a  blessing  to  it. 

George  G.  Smith. 

Madison,  Ga.  ,  August,  1882. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  L 

PARENTAGE.  — BIRTH.  — BOYHOOD .  — ENTRANCE  INTO 
THE  MINISTRY. 

1794-1812. 

The  Puritan  Church  at  Midway,  Liberty  County. — John  Andrew  Born. — 
The  Revolution. — The'New  Purchase. — John  Andrew  a  Schoolmaster. 
— He  Becomes  a  Methodist. — Takes  a  Circuit. — Marries  Mary  Cosby 
and  Locates. — James  Osgood  Andrew  Born. — Boyhood  in  Elbert. — 
Some  of  the  Preachers. — The  Camp-meeting. — His  Conversion  and 
Call  to  Preach. — Lovick  Pierce. — The  First  Sermon. — Recommended 
to  the  Annual  Conference  pp.  15-41 


CHAPTER  n. 

THREE  YEARS  ON  CIRCUITS. 
1812-1815. 

The  Conference  of  1812.— The  Timely  Gift. — The  Appointment  Received. 
— The  Salt  Ketcher  Circuit. — William  Kennedy. — His  First  Letter 
Home. — His  Father's  Letters  to  Him. — Thomas  Darley. — Anecdote 
from  Bishop  McTyiere. — Home  Again. — Bladen  Circuit  in  1814. — The 
Journey.— The  Scotch  Highlanders.— Hard  Times.— Success  in  the 
Word. — The  Conference  of  1814. — Milledgeville. — Asbury  and  Mc- 
Kendree. — The  Warren  Circuit. — Incidents, — Letters  pp.  42-62 


X 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ON    A  STATION. 
1816-1823. 

Charleston.— Appearance  and  Preaching. —  Colleagues.— Ann  Amelia 
Macfarlane. — Her  Parentage. — Marries  Her. — Conference,  1816. — 
Wilmington,  N.  C,  1817.— Stormy  Voyage. — Kind  Welcome.— Par- 
sonage.— Church. — First  Child. — Extracts  from  Journal.  —Infidel  Con- 
verted.—Revivals.— Returned,  1818.— Happy  Year.— Letters  to  his 
Father.— Columbia,  S.  C,  1819.— William  Capers.— Methodism  in 
the  City. — Parsonage. — Some  Trials. — Revival. — Augusta,  1820-21. 
— Augusta  Methodism.  —  New  Parsonage. — Asaph  Waterman. — 
Reminiscences  of  General  Conference. — James  Russell. — Savan- 
nah, 1822-23. — Affliction. — Loses  his  Babe. — Narrow  Escape  from 
Drowning.  —  Kindness  of  the  People.  —  Bishop  Roberts.  —  Thfc 
Singing  Sister. — Lewis  Myers. — Conference. — Sent  to  Charleston 
District  pp.  63-156 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DISTRICT  WORK  AND  CHARLESTON  STATION. 
1824-1828. 

Charleston  Again. — The  Charleston  District. —  Stephen  Olin. — Samuel 
Dunwody. — General  Conference  of  1824. — The  Charleston  Station. — 
Yellow  Fever. — Death  of  Asbury  Morgan. — Letters.— Appointed  to 
Greensboro  and  Athens  pp.  157-198 


CHAPTER  V. 
GEORGIA  AGAIN. 
1829-1832. 

Greensboro.— Athens.— Hope  Hull.— The  Protestant  Methodist  Church. 
— Mr.  Andrew's  Views  on  Freedom  of  Thought  and  Discussion. — 
1829. — Athens. — Madison, — John  Andrew's  Death. — Sketch  of  his 
Character.— Augusta  Again. — Visit  to  the  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence.— Missionary  Address. — Bishop  Wightman's  Account. — George 
F.  Pierce. — Resolves  to  go  on  a  Mission. — General  Conference  in 
Philadelphia. — Elected  a  Bishop  pp.  199-239 


Contents. 


xi 


CHAPTER  VI. 
EPISCOPAL  LIFE  IN  AUGUSTA. 

I 

1832-1836. 

First  Four  Years  of  Episcopal  Work,— Home  Purchased  in  Augusta.— 
First  Tour. — Camp-meeting  in  Clarke. — Journey  to  Tennessee. — To 
Mississippi. — Alabama  Conference  Organized. — Georgia  Conference 
at  La  Grange. — South  Carolina. — Home  Again. — Visit  to  Florida. 
— Georgia  Conference. — With  Emory  at  Washington.  —  Northern 
Tour  in  1834. — Again  in  1835. — Bishop  Simpson's  Letter. — General 
Conference  at  Cincinnati. — Removal  from  Augusta  to  Chestnut 
Grove  pp.  240-287 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE  AT   CHESTNUT   GROVE,  AND   SECOND  QUAD- 
RENIUM  OF  EPISCOPAL  WORK. 

I 836- I 840. 

Chestnut  Grove. — Visitations  in  the  Winter  of  1836  and  Spring  of  1837. — 
Visits  North  Carolina  Conference  in  1839. — Dr.  Edwards'  Account  of 
Missionary  Address. — Home  Life  at  Chestnut  Grove  pp.  288-304 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

OXFORD  LIFE. 
1841-1844. 

Emory  College,  Oxford.— Daughter's  Illness.— Amelia  Andrew's  Fatal 
Attack. — Her  Death.— Tour  to  the  West  in  1842.— Letter  to  Bishop 
Soule. — Visitation  of  1843. — Iowa. — Indiana. — Illinois. — Missouri. — 
Arkansas.— Texas  pp.  305-335 


xii 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
DIVISION  OF  THE  CHURCH. 
1 844-1 846. 

Second  Marriage. — Happy  Surroundings. — General  Conference  in  New 
York. — Excitement  on  the  Subject  of  his  Owning  Slaves. — General 
Conference  Proceedings.— His  Speeches  — Passage  of  the  Finley 
Substitute.— Return  to  Georgia.— Resolution  of  Southern  Delegates. 
— Visitations. — Convention  at  Louisville.— Conference  Tour  in  1845. 
— General  Conference  in  1846  pp.  336-385 


CHAPTER  X. 

METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  SOUTH. 
1847-1855. 

First  Book. — Episcopal  Visitations. — Interest  in  Missions. — Mrs.  An- 
drew's Sickness  and  Death. — Letters  from  Bishops  Capers  and 
Paine  pp.  386-408 


CHAPTER  XI. 


LIFE  IN  SUMMERFIELD. 


1855-1861. 

Panama. — Letter  to  Rush. — California. — Recollections  of  Dr.  Fitzgerald. 
— Return  to  Alabama. — Visits  Oxford. — Virginia  Conference. — Great 
Sermon. — North  Carolina  Conference  at  Wilmington. — Florida  Con- 
ference.— Rest  at  Summerfield. — Visit  to  Georgia. — Death  of  Eliza- 
beth Lovett. — Episcopal  Tour. — Changes  in  his  Old  Conferences. — 
Serious  Attack  of  Sickness. — Compelled  to  Turn  Back  in  Missouri. — 
Remained  at  Home  until  May. — General  Conference  at  Nashville. — 
Episcopal  Visitation. — Visit  to  Georgia. — Contributions  to  the  Press. 
— Visit  to  Texas. — Changes. — Missionary  Enterprise. — Central  Amer- 
ican Mission  pp.  409-434 


Contents, 


xiii 


CHAPTER  XII. 
DURING  THE  WAR. 
1861-1866. 

His  Political  Views. — Letters  to  his  Son. — Letter  from  General  T.  R.  R. 
Cobb. — Tour  of  1861. — Visit  to  Jimmie  in  Camp. — Last  Visits  to 
Henrietta. — Her  Death.— Letters  from  Merriwether  and  Reply. — 
Life  in  Summerfield  during  the  War. — Merriwether's  House  Sacked. 
— Annie's  Account. — Letter  to  Merriwether. — Peace  pp.  435-492 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LITERARY  LABORS. 

Qualifications  for  Authorship. — Work  on  "  Family  Government." — "  Mis- 
cellanies."— Newspaper  Contributions. — Review  Articles,  .pp.  493-505 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCE. 

Conversion. — Consecration. — Obedience. — Christian  Perfection. — Faith  in 
Providence. — Instances  of  Interposition. — Submission  to  God's  Will. 
—Bishop  Pierce's  View  pp.  506-525 


CHAPTER  XV. 


1866-1871 


AT  THE  CLOSE. 


,pp.  526-562 


• 


THE  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF 

JAMES  OSGOOD  ANDREW. 


CHAPTER  L 

PARENTAGE.— BIRTH.— BOYHOOD.— ENTRANCE  INTO 
THE  MINISTRY. 

1794-1812. 

The  Puritan  Church  at  Midway,  Liberty  County. — ^John  Andrew  born. — 
The  Revolution. — The  new  purchase. — John  Andrew  a  schoolmaster. 
— He  becomes  a  Methodist, — Takes  a  circuit. — Marries  Mary  Cosby 
and  locates. — James  Osgood  Andrew  born. — Boyhood  in  Elbert. — 
Some  of  the  preachers. — The  camp-meeting. — His  conversion  and 
call  to  preach.— Lovick  Pierce.— The  first  sermon.— Recommended  to 
the  Annual  Conference. 

IN  the  days  of  Charles  the  First  and  his  persecuting 
archbishop,  John  White,  the  grandfather  of  John 
Wesley  was  the  pastor  of  a  Puritan  church  in  Dor- 
chester, England.  The  times  were  stormy,  and  he  re- 
solved, with  his  church,  to  emigrate  to  Massachusetts, 
and  secured  a  grant  of  lands.  Not  far  away  was  the 
town  of  Plymouth,  in  which  there  was  a  sister  church, 
which  was  to  go  with  him  and  his.  The  church  at 
Dorchester  may  not  have  emigrated  ;  Dr.  White  cer- 
tainly did  not.    The  church  at  Plymouth  did  come  to 


i6 


TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 


America,  and  established  the  town  of  Dorchester,  Mas- 
sachusetts. After  fifty  years  this  church  sent  out  a 
colony  to  South  Carolina,  and  the  town  of  Dorchester, 
South  Carolina,  was  established  on  the  Ashley  River, 
fifteen  miles  from  Charleston.  The  colonists  and  their 
descendants  remained  here  for  fifty  years. 

In  the  meantime  Georgia  was  settled,  and  as  they 
were  cramped  for  lands,  after  due  examination,  and 
after  having  secured  a  large  grant  from  the  Georgia 
Colonial  Government,  they  crossed  the  Savannah 
River  and  settled  some  fifty  miles  south  of  the  city  of 
the  same  name,  at  a  place  they  called  Midway,  and 
where  they  founded  another  Dorchester. 

Among  these  colonists  were  two  Andrews,  James 
and  Benjamin.  Benjamin  is  mentioned  as  having  a 
family.  Which  of  these  two  was  the  grandfather  of 
James  Osgood  Andrew  I  cannot  say ;  probably  Ben- 
jamin. 

The  pastor  of  the  church  was  Mr.  Osgood.  In  a 
sketch  of  his  parents  by  Bishop  Andrew,  published  in 
the  Hojne  Circle^  he  speaks  of  Mr.  Osgood  as  his 
uncle.  I  can  find  nowhere  else  any  indication  that 
this  was  so,  and  am  satisfied  that  it  was  the  mistake  of 
the  editor  of  the  Home  Circle,  who  was  misled  by 
the  statement  of  Bishop  Andrew  that  his  father  was 
brought  up  by  his  uncle  and  educated  by  Mr.  Osgood. 
It  is  certain  John  Andrew  was  much  attached  to  his 
old  pastor,  and  named  his  son  James  in  his  honor. 

The  father  of  John  Andrew  was  a  very  pious  man. 
He  had  regular  family  worship,  and  once  a  week  read 
a  sermon  to  his  family.  While  the  son  was  quite  a 
small  boy  the  father  died,  and  he  was  brought  up  by 
his  uncle  and  educated  by  Mr.  Osgood.    He  says  he 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  17 


was  not  inured  to  hard  labor,  much  to  his  after  regret. 
He  had  a  very  correct  EngHsh  education,  and  knew 
something  of  Latin. 

The  old  Puritan  blood  was  the  first  Georgia  blood  to 
boil  when  the  fires  of  the  Revolution  began  to  blaze,  and 
John  Andrew,  then  not  quite  grown,  began  to  ride  with 
Screven.    He  was  a  partisan  ranger  during  the  war. 

After  the  war  ended  he  found  his  slaves  gone  and 
his  other  property  much  injured,  and  he  went  from 
Liberty  County  into  the  new  purchase. 

Five  years  before  the  Revolution  began,  Sir  James 
Wright,  then  Governor  of  Georgia,  purchased  from 
the  Indians  a  most  beautiful  and  fertile  country  north 
and  west  of  Augusta,  extending  to  the  banks  of  the 
Oconee.  A  part  of  this  country  was  called  Columbia 
County,  and  into  it  John  Andrew  came  to  teach  a 
school.  It  was,  for  the  time,  rather  thickly  settled 
with  a  fine  class  of  settlers.  He  was  either  married 
when  he  came  or  he  married  soon  after.  He  lost  his 
first  wife  after  the  birth  of  her  first  child  ;  married 
again,  and  when  she  too  had  one  child  she  died. 

Although  he  was  a  member  of  the  church  at  Midway, 
and  strictly  moral,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  been  a 
converted  man.  The  Methodists  came  into  this  sec- 
tion when  they  came  to  Georgia,  and  were  making 
quite  a  sensation  in  it.  The  pathetic  Major  and  the 
fiery  Humphries  were  sweeping  through  the  country, 
preaching  as  they  went.  The  usual  phenomena  which 
attend  evangelical  preaching  when  it  is  first  given  to 
a  simple-hearted  people  attended  their  labors.  The 
steady-going  young  Puritan  heard  of  the  noise  and 
confusion  of  the  meetings,  and  decided  to  go  and  see  for 
himself.    It  is  the  same  often-told  story.    He  went  to 


i8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


condemn  them,  and  ended  in  condemning  himself. 
He  cried  for  pardon  and  joined  in  society. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  called  for.  No  man 
could  be  a  laggard  in  those  days — the  harvest  was  too 
great,  Jhe  laborers  were  too  few;  and  so,  in  1789,  John 
Andrew  began  to  ride  again,  not  with  Screven  this 
time,  but  with  Reuben  Ellis,  on  the  Cherokee  Circuit, 
in  South  Carolina.  The  next  year  he  was  in  Burke 
County,  Georgia,  and  then  he  was  on  the  Washington 
Circuit,  where  he  married  a  third  time,  and,  of  course, 
located. 

Just  after  the  Revolution  a  body  of  Virginians,  in- 
duced by  Colonel  George  Mathews,  removed  from  their 
own  State,  and  settled  on  the  Broad  River,  in  Wilkes 
County,  Georgia.  Among  these  settlers  was  a  Mr. 
Cosby.  He  was  from  Spottsylvania  County,  and  a 
man  well-to-do  in  the  world.  He  was,  while  in  Vir- 
ginia, an  adherent,  if  not  a  communicant  of,  the  Epis- 
copal Church.  John  Major,  Thomas  Humphries, 
Richard  Ivy,  Hope  Hull,  had  all  preached  in  Wilkes, 
and  had  built  up  strong  societies,  and  some  of  the  best 
people  of  the  county  had  adhered  to  them.  Among 
these  was  the  gentle  Mary  Cosby  and  her  sister. 
They  did  not  unite  with  the  Methodists  without  oppo- 
sition, and  the  following  letter,  carefully  preserved  for 
nearly  one  hundred  years,  tells  of  how  tender  was  the 
sympathy  they  received  from  a  worthy  source.  Dan- 
iel Grant,  who  wrote  it,  was  an  Elder  in  the  church  of 
Samuel  Davies  in  Virginia,  and  was  still  a  Presbyterian 
when  he  came  from  North  Carolina  to  Georgia.  The 
Methodists,  however,  were  the  only  preachers  near 
him,  and  he  opened  his  house  to  them,  and  he,  too, 
soon  joined  in  society.    He  became  a  most  devoted 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  19 


member,  as  did  his  son  Thomas,  then  a  married  man, 
who  was  one  of  the  most  useful  laymen  of  his  time. 
They  built  the  first  church  in  Georgia,  Grant's  Meet- 
ing-house. 

When  this  old  father  saw  the  gentle  Polly  Cosby 
and  her  sister  so  in  need  of  sympathy  and  encourage- 
ment, he  wrote  her  thus  : 

December  9,  1789. 

Sister  Polly  Cosby  : 

I  use  this  friendly  term  from  no  other  motive  than 
this.  As  you  have  and  expect  still  to  make  choice  of 
the  mode  of  worship  which  I  myself  have  chosen  (I 
hope  after  mature  deliberation),  as  also  I  trust  you 
have  and  do  experience  in  your  soul  that  love  of 
Christ,  his  ways  and  people,  which  hope  I  have  my- 
self in  some  degree  felt,  and  still,  which  I  think  unites 
my  soul  to  all  the  people  of  God  of  whatever  name, 

I  hear  a  report  hath  prevailed  about  Broad  River, 
that  I  was  about  to  leave  the  Methodists  and  join  the 
Baptists,  but  it  affords  me  no  concern  any  farther 
than  for  the  sake  of  others,  but  be  assured  there  is 
nothing  of  it.  I  believe  there  are  many  good  people 
among  them  that  I  highly  esteem,  but  I  think  their 
doctrines  and  opinions  have  a  dangerous  tendency. 

"  I  was  for  many  years  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  and  love  and  honor  many  of  them,  for  though 
they  hold  the  same  opinions  for  the  most  part  with 
the  Baptist  yet  they  don't  abuse  them  so  much,  and 
as  I  have  been  for  several  years  well  acquainted  with 
Presbyterians,  Baptists,  and  Methodists  I  am  in  some 
measure  the  more  capable  to  judge  for  myself. 

"  The  Methodists,  I  know,  are  a  people  that  are  sat 


20 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


at  naught  by  many,  but  for  my  part  I  hope  to  live  and 
die  in  fellowship  with  them.  Class  Meetings  are  the 
ridicule  of  many,  but  I  think  it  is  the  most  blessed 
means  to  keep  up  the  life  of  religion  in  the  soul  al- 
most of  any  other,  and  I  don't  doubt  you  have  often 
been  greatly  blessed  at  such  times,  notwithstanding 
all  Satan,  the  world,  and  our  backwardness  can  say 
against  it. 

"  I  have  been  truly  sensible  of  the  many  trials  and 
difficulties  yourself  and  sisters  have  had  to  encounter 
since  you  have  sat  out  in  the  service  of  God  ;  but  fear 
not,  greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  against 
you  ;  take  notice  of  this  precious  word,  Be  faithful^ 
and  all  these  things  I  hope  will  in  the  end  work  for 
your  good.  When  you  are  by  grace  enabled  to  sur- 
mount them  you  will  then  be  better  able  to  see  and 
shun  the  devices  of  Satan. 

"  Aim  at  more  holiness  of  heart  and  life,  and  let  all 
your  friends  and  those  around  you  see  by  your 
heavenly  life  and  conversation  what  you  profess  to 
be,  viz.,  a  follower  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus. 

I  was  glad  to  hear  you  have  escaped  the  snare,  so 
artfully  laid  for  you,  and  which  I  hope  in  God  will 
prove  a  blessing  ;  bear  up  under  all  the  difficulties  you 
have  to  bear,  and  the  greater  will  be  your  reward  in 
Heaven,  and  live  near  to  the  Lord,  look  continually 
to  him  and  he  will  support  you  if  you  faint  not. 

"  Encourage  your  Sisters  in  the  good  ways  of  God. 
You  have,  I  expect,  all  been  happily  united,  and  I 
hope  will  remain  so.  Tell  them  from  me  that  this 
world  has  no  pleasure  compared  with  that  of  serving 
and  pleasing  God.  We  shall  all  soon  die,  and  our 
business  is  to  endeavor  to  escape  the  death  that  never 


James  Osgood  Andretv. 


21 


dies,  and  so  obtain  a  fitness  for  that  blessed  world 
above  where  all  our  sorrows  end  and  everlasting  joy- 
takes  place,  and,  while  we  live  here,  to  live  to  the  glory 
of  our  gracious  God,  recommend  him  to  others,  and 
enjoy  his  blessed  presence  and  the  light  of  his  recon- 
ciled countenance,  which  is  better  than  life,  and  that 
this  may  be  your  and  your  Sisters'  and  my  own  happy 
case,  let  us  all  earnestly  strive,  relying  for  assistance  on- 
his  almighty  arm.  Adieu,  my  friend,  live  in  love  and 
peace,  and  the  God  of  all  Grace  enable  you  so  to  do. 

^^Danl  Grant." 

The  gentle  girl  heeded,  if  she  needed  not,  the  good 
counsel  of  the  saintly  old  man,  and  never  left  the 
society  till  she  went  to  heaven.  When  John  An- 
drew came  on  the  circuit,  a  young  man  of  thirty-two, 
he  wooed  her  and  won  her,  and  they  were  married. 
Her  father  seems  to  have  been  living  at  this  time,  for 
John  Andrew  speaks  of  a  visit  from  Mr.  Cosby  two 
years  afterward.  Location  always  followed  marriage 
in  the  early  days  of  Methodism.  The  first  man  in 
this  section  of  the  Church  to  break  the  rule  was  James 
O.  Andrew  himself,  and  that  was  nearly  twenty-five 
years  from  this  time.  So  John  Andrew  located. 
He  did  not  intend  to  cease  from  preaching,  nor  did 
he  do  so,  but  he  settled  down  to  attend  to  secular 
affairs.    Alas  for  him  that  he  did. 

He  was  then  thirty-four  years  old.  He  was  not 
strong  in  health,  and  by  some  means  had  lost  all  his 
property  and  was  deeply  in  debt.  Those  were  the 
days  of  imprisonment  for  debt,  and  he  was  in  danger 
of  the  debtor's  prison.  He  had  left  the  home  of  his 
kindred,  he  had  lost  all  his  estate,  had  already,  young 


22 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


as  he  was,  lost  two  wives.  He  had  married  a  lovely  and 
devoted  young  woman  who  had  left  a  home  of  afflu- 
ence to  share  his  lowly  lot.  They  had  a  little  farm  and 
a  few  slaves,  and  he  began  to  teach  a  country  school. 
Teaching  a  country  school  and  receiving  six  dollars 
per  year  of  twelve  full  months  for  controUing  rude 
boys  and  pleasing  unreasonable  parents,  may  be  a 
means  of  grace  to  a  man,  by  making  him  patient,  but 
it  is  not  calculated  to  make  one's  life  brighter,  and  so 
John  Andrew  found  it.  He,  however,  gave  himself 
to  prayer,  met  Brother  Crutchfield  in  band,  rode  out 
every  Sunday  and  preached,  and  taught  the  negroes 
in  Sunday-school.  He  met  in  class  with  the  society, 
and  his  dark  sky  was  often  lit  up  by  rays  of  heavenly 
light ;  but  too  often  it  was  sadly  clouded.  He  had 
trials  enough  at  the  best,  and  perhaps  the  early  les- 
sons he  had  learned  among  the  Puritans  at  Midway, 
and  the  stress  laid  upon  feelings  in  the  early  days  of 
Methodism,  led  him  to  write  bitter  things  against 
himself  too  frequently.  So  when  he  was  sick  and 
tired,  and  burdened,  he  groaned  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  soul ;  but  he  never  turned  from  the  way. 

The  man  who,  passing  through  the  valley  of  Baca, 
shall  make  it  a  well,  or  he  who,  passing  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  fears  no  evil,  may  be 
happier,  but  he  is  not  more  blessed  than  he  who  says, 
"  Though  he  slay  me  yet  will  I  trust  in  him." 

John  Andrew's  journal  tells  of  more  Decembers 
than  Mays,  and  it  tells  the  story  of  a  sensitive,  poor, 
heart-stricken  man,  smitten,  as  he  felt,  of  God,  and 
misjudged  by  men,  plodding  on  in  the  way  of  duty. 
He  kept  a  little  journal  in  1792,  and  from  it  I  have 
gathered  the  foregoing  facts. 


James  Osgood  Aitdrew. 


23 


He  lived,  immediately  after  his  marriage,  not  far 
from  Washington,  and  continued  to  live  in  the  same 
neighborhood  until  the  birth  of  his  first  son,  in  May 
of  1794.  The  journal  reveals  the  straits  to  which  he 
was  even  then  reduced,  but  he  was  evidently  at  that 
time  possessed  of  a  home  and  of  a  few  slaves,  and 
was  one  of  the  leading  teachers  of  the  section.  He 
was  constantly  engaged  in  his  ministerial  work  on 
the  Sabbath. 

In  the  early  part  of  1794  Georgia  included  in  its 
boundary  all  that  section  between  the  Savannah  River 
and  the  Mississippi  south  of  Tennessee.  There  was 
only  a  small  part  of  the  great  domain  peopled  at  all, 
and  a  very  small  part  of  it  settled  by  the  whites. 
From  the  coast  to  the  banks  of  the  Ogeechee  the  white 
man  had  full  sway  ;  west  of  the  river  was  the  Indian's 
home.  The  settlements,  as  they  were  called,  w^re 
rather  numerous  in  the  older  sections  of  the  State, 
and,  as  always  in  a  new  country,  the  people  lived  in 
groups.  Where  the  land  was  good,  and  the  climate 
healthy,  there  would  be  a  number  of  settlers  ;  and 
where  the  land  was  poor,  it  would  be  given  up  for  a 
stock  range.  The  houses  of  the  people  were  most  of 
them  of  logs.  The  better  class  lived  in  double  log- 
cabins.  There  were  no  saw-mills  nor  flour-mills,  and 
wheat  flour  was  a  luxury  rarely  enjoyed.  West  India 
produce,  as  sugar  and  molasses  were  called,  came  into 
the  small  town  of  Savannah  and  were  carried  by  wag- 
ons to  the  interior.  A  hogshead  of  tobacco,  a  few 
cattle,  and  some  peltry  were  the  only  products  that 
brought  money.  The  woods  were  full  of  game,  cattle 
roamed  at  will  over  rich  pastures,  the  land  produced 
freely,  and  in  all  the  substantials  of  Hfe  the  people 


24 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


were  well  to  do.  They  had  but  little  money,  and 
knew  but  little  of  luxury. 

Wilkes  County  was  one  of  the  best  of  the  newly 
settled  counties,  and  in  it,  May  3,  1794,  James  Os- 
good Andrew  was  born.  The  house,  we  may  be 
sure,  was  a  double-log  cabin,  and  the  surroundings 
very  plain,  but  at  this  time  quite  comfortable. 

The  father  was  just  thirty-six  years  jold,  and  the 
mother  perhaps  ten  years  younger.  Bishop  Andrew 
had  no  memory  of  his  birthplace,  nor  of  the  next  home 
to  which  the  family  removed.  This  was  in  Elbert 
County,  a  county  adjoining  Wilkes  on  the  north.  The 
financial  troubles  of  John  Andrew,  to  which  allusion 
has  been  made,  seem  to  have  been  so  far  settled  that 
he  was  enabled  to  embark  his  little  property,  with  that 
of  his  wife,  in  merchandise.  It  was  the  often-told 
story  in  Methodist  annals — failure  and  trouble.  He 
lost  his  property,  and  he,  always  sensitive,  feeling 
that  he  had  lost  his  influence,  and  that  he  was  cen- 
sured by  his  brethren,  withdrew  from  the  society.  He 
did  not  cease  to  pray  in  private  nor  in  the  family,  nor 
did  he  cease  to  try  to  obey  God.  His  exile  from  the 
Church  does  not  seem  to  have  been  of  long  duration, 
for  he  was  evidently  in  the  society  in  1813.  These 
disasters  all  came  while  James  was  a  little  boy,  per- 
haps before  he  could  remember. 

His  first  memory  was  of  the  humble  home,  a  father 
burdened  with  care,  and  a  mother  toiling  to  help  her 
husband  along. 

He  was  the  oldest  son  ;  there  were  two  daughters 
by  the  first  marriages.  In  very  early  childhood  he 
was  quite  delicate,  but  after  the  bankruptcy  and  the 
loss  of  all,  he  says  he  began  to  grow  more  hardy,  made 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


25 


so  by  the  very  privations  he  was  called  upon  to  en- 
dure. 

It  is  very  much  to  be  regretted  that  we  hear  so 
little  of  the  boyhood  of  great  men.  The  immense 
value  of  a  good  boyhood  cannot  be  estimated,  and 
not  only  the  great  poet  who  says,  The  boy  is  father  to 
the  man,"  but  every  thoughtful  laborer  for  the  good  of 
the  race  has  recognized  this  fact.  The  study  of  boy- 
hood is  not  only  interesting  but  important,  and  yet  we 
have  but  little  of  it  anywhere  in  biography ;  nor  is 
this  book  to  be  an  exception,  though  I  would  fain 
make  it  so,  and  yet  it  would  be  very  incomplete  if  I 
made  no  effort  to  give  a  view  of  Georgia  boy-life 
seventy-five  years  ago. 

This  is,  after  all,  not  so  difficult  a  task.    For  the 

Georgia  Scenes,"  and  "  William  Mitten,"  by  Judge 
Longstreet,  and  Georgians,"  by  Governor  Gilmer, 
and  "The  Reminiscences  of  a  Georgia  Lawyer,"  by 
Garnett  Andrews,  have  given  us  a  very  fair  insight 
into  Georgia  and  Georgia  homes  in  those  early  days. 

The  home  of  John  Andrew  was  in  Elbert  County, 
on  Cedar  Creek.  Elbert  County  was  then  one  of  the 
most  populous  and  fertile  in  the  State.  It  was  what 
is  known  in  Georgia  as  an  oak-and-hickory  county ; 
broken  into  hills,  fertile  and  beautiful,  with  small 
valleys  on  all  the  creeks  and  brooks  and  on  the  small 
rivers  coursing  through  it.  Healthy,  fertile,  and  ac- 
cessible to  the  older  States,  it  was  soon  settled  by 
enterprising  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  people. 

Here  Beverly  Allen  began  his  ministry,  and  here  he 
lived  to  the  day  of  his  disgrace  ;  and  from  this  county 
he  fled  to  Kentucky  after  he  had  killed  Forsyth,  the 
United  States  Marshal. 


26 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


John  Andrew  seems  to  have  moved  to  Cedar  Creek 
to  merchandise,  and  James  was  sent  to  another  teacher. 
He  says:  "One  morning  my  mother  fixed  me  in  a 
style  a  little  better  than  usual,  and  my  father  took  me 
up  and  carried  me  to  an  ancient  house  which  stood 
on  the  edge  of  an  old  field,  and  handed  me  over  to  a 
rough-looking  man  whose  face  was  covered  with  pock- 
pits,  and,  after  a  few  moments,  left  me  with  this  un- 
lovely old  man  and  a  swarm  of  youngsters  of  various 
ages.  This  was  the  beginning  of  my  school-boy  life, 
I  being  at  that  time  about  five  years  old." 

The  old  field  school,  of  which  we  have  a  glimpse, 
was  an  institution  in  old  Georgia.  Why  was  it  in  or 
near  an  old  field  ?  We  know  not,  but  such  was  the  case. 
The  teacher  was  generally  some  broken-down  adven- 
turer, often  an  Irishman,  who  went  through  the  settle- 
ment and  had  the  children  subscribed.  Fifty  cents  a 
month  was  the  tuition  fee ;  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic  the  branches  of  study  ;  from  seven  o'clock 
A.M.  to  six  o'clock  P.M.  the  hours  of  school  work,  and 
twelve  months  the  length  of  the  session.  The  disci- 
pline of  the  school  was  very  simple  and  very  rigid. 
The  hickory  was  in  demand  on  every  occasion — idle- 
ness, dullness,  inattention,  as  well  as  rebellion,  were 
all  punished  promptly  and  severely.  The  larger  the 
scholar  the  more  the  glory  when  it  became  needful  to 
chastise  him,  and  when  it  was  done  ;  now  and  then  the 
teacher  was  barred  out,  and  the  fight  was  a  very  sharp 
one  between  him  and  his  rebellious  school.  The 
school  generally  triumphed.  The  boys  and  girls  went 
to  the  same  school,  and  trooped  along  together  over 
the  same  highway.  Early  in  the  morning,  before  day- 
light, every  one  in  the  country  home  was  roused. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


27 


Breakfast  was  by  candle-light ;  the  little  tin  bucket 
was  packed  with  corn-bread  and  middling  meat  for 
the  mid-day  meal,  and  then  the  little  ones  tripped  on 
their  way  to  school.  Dillworth's  Speller,  the  Federal 
Calculator,  the  New  York  Reader,  and  now  and  then 
the  Columbian  Orator  were  the  text-books.  It  was 
an  academy  when  Morse's  Geography  and  Murray's 
Grammar  were  a  part  of  the  course.  The  little  fellows 
were  all  dressed  in  homespun — copperas-dyed  cottons 
in  summer,  and  walnut-dyed  woolens  in  winter.  Of 
shoes,  neither  boys  nor  girls  had  any,  except  for  win- 
ter, and  now  and  then  for  Sunday  use.  The  little 
ones  were  full  of  health  and  heartiness;  they  never  knew 
what  it  was  to  go  to  bed  hungry  or  to  shiver  with 
cold,  for  there  was  food  enough  and  wood  enough  for 
all.  They  knew  nothing  of  base-ball  or  cricket,  but  cat 
and  sock  it,  and  bull-pen,  and  town-ball,  and  base, 
and  chase  the  hare,  and  wrestling  ;  indeed,  every  sport 
to  tax  the  muscles  and  develop  them  they  enjoyed. 
To  such  a  school  as  this,  over  eighty  years  ago,  came 
little  James  Andrew.  A  homely  young  fellow  he  was, 
with  a  hazel  eye,  a  curly  head,  and  a  great  mole  on  his 
chin.  He  was  his  mother's  first  son,  was  her  pet,  and 
he  must  have  felt,  as  he  said  he  did,  very  lonesome 
when  his  father  gave  him  to  the  pock-marked  teacher 
and  left  him  there  for  the  day. 

This  is  all  he  says  of  his  school-life.  The  most  of 
his  education  he  received  from  his  father.  He  says 
as  his  father  was  a  teacher  it  might  naturally  be  sup- 
posed that  he  had  had  good  educational  advantages  ; 
but  this  was  not  the  case.  He  was  the  oldest  son,  and 
as  m.ill-boy  and  boy-of-all-work,  he  had  but  little  time 
to  go  to  school. 


28 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


His  journal,  which  he  began  while  he  was  in  Wil- 
mington, and  his  letters  written  from  his  first  circuit, 
show  that  he  spelt  well,  used  good  grammar,  and  ex- 
pressed himself  with  fehcity.  He  was  very  fond  of 
reading,  and  the  little  library  was  well  supplied  with 
books  for  those  times — books  of  a  high  order,  not  ex- 
cluding books  of  fiction.  His  mother  was  a  great 
reader,  and  he  acquired  his  taste  for  books  from  her. 
I  doubt  whether  he  was  fond  of  study  as  study.  He 
complains  of  himself,  in  after  years,  as  lacking  the 
quality  of  close  application,  and  he  never  became  an 
accurate  scholar. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  humble  home  was  eminently 
refining.  Polly  Cosby  was  a  lady  born  and  bred,  and 
the  best  Puritan  blood  was  in  the  veins  of  John  An- 
drew— cavalier  and  Puritan  united  here.  Though 
they  were  poor  they  were  not  mean,  and  James  An- 
drew was  brought  up  as  high-toned  a  gentleman  as 
Georgia  had  in  it.  The  home  was  evidently  a  Chris- 
tian home.  The  dear  mother  had  given  her  young 
life  to  religion,  and  had  with  a  great  courage  met  all 
opposition  and  conquered  it,  and  the  faithful  father 
had,  amid  all  the  storms,  steered  his  course  heaven- 
ward ;  but  no  hand  but  that  of  the  grateful  son  should 
be  permitted  to  draw  the  portraits  of  the  father  and 
mother.  He  says  :  **  My  father  was  apparently  a  stern 
man,  and  there  were  hours  when  he  did  not  choose  to 
converse,  but  at  other  times  he  was  exceedingly  com- 
municative and  pleasant.  His  countenance  always  af- 
forded me  a  sure  index  of  his  frame  of  mind,  and  read- 
ily satisfied  me  as  to  whether  I  might  approach  him  ; 
and  I  was  never  slow  to  avail  myself  of  the  privileges 
which  those  hours  afforded,  for  he  was  always  at  such 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


29 


times  an  instructive  and  delightful  companion.  To 
these  delightful  hours  of  intercourse  1  owe  much,  very 
much  of  whatever  little  improvement  I  may  have  sub- 
sequently made.  In  his  discipline  he  was  decided  and 
inflexible.  His  laws  were  few  and  appropriate,  but 
they  were  uniformly  enforced.  If  I  did  wrong,  vio- 
lating any  of  those  rules,  he  sometimes  punished  me 
by  refusing  to  talk  with  me,  and  showing  me  always  a 
look  of  displeasure.  This  was  a  painful  and  mortify- 
ing state  of  things,  but  he  sometimes  appealed  to  my 
feelings  in  a  manner  rather  more  direct.  When  he 
said  to  me,  *  I'll  remember  you  for  this  offence,'  I  only 
wished  that  he  would  apply  the  rod  at  once,  instead 
of  keeping  me  in  suspense  ;  for  I  well  knew  that,  how- 
ever long  delayed,  the  punishment  was  certain.  T|iat 
was  one  of  the  promises  he  never  failed  to  keep. 

My  father  was  a  very  religious  man.  Family 
worship  was  never  neglected  by  him,  and  about  once 
a  week,  at  the  hour  for  family  worship,  he  gave  his 
children  a  short  but  appropriate  and  solemn  appeal  on 
the  subject  of  their  religious  interests.  I  remember 
well  how  these  seasons  used  to  impress  me.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  he  used  often  to  take  me  with  him  at 
eventide  to  his  place  of  secret  prayer  in  the  woods, 
and,  leaving  me  some  twenty  yards  behind  him,  kneel 
and  wrestle  earnestly  with  God.  I  often  heard  his 
groanings,  and  knew  that  much  of  that  agony  was  on 
my  account.  Ah  !  I  shall  never  forget  those  evening 
prayer  scenes. 

At  length,  after  having  battled  with  the  storms  of 
life  till  past  his  threescore  and  ten,  the  Master  said, 
*  It  is  enough  ;  the  warfare  is  ended  ;  enter  into  rest.' 
His  affliction  continued  for  some  time,  and  through 


30 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


it  all  he  continued  patient  and  resigned,  calmly  and 
triumphantly  resting  on  the  God  of  his  salvation.  At 
his  request  I  administered  the  holy  sacrament  to  my 
dying  father ;  and  surely  it  was  a  season  never  to  be 
forgotten.    God's  presence  cheered  us. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which  he  died,  he 
called  my  weeping  mother  and  said  to  her  : 

*  Don't  be  troubled  about  yourself  and  the  chil- 
dren. God  will  provide  for  you  ;  he  has  this  morning 
promised  me  that  he  would.* 

**  After  this,  having  affectionately  and  solemnly 
charged  us  all  to  live  so  as  to  meet  him  above,  he  gently 
fell  asleep  in  Jesus  ;  and  when  we  bore  him  to  the  neigh- 
boring churchyard  and  laid  him  in  the  quiet  grave,  I 
felt  the  words,  *  There  the  weary  are  at  rest,'  applied 
to  my  mind  very  impressively.  He  had  closed  a  tem- 
pestuous voyage,  had  reached  the  long-desired  haven, 
and  was  at  rest — sweet,  hallowed,  eternal.  There  I 
hope  at  last  to  unite  with  him  and  many  other  de- 
parted precious  ones. 

**My  mother,  whose  maiden  name  was  Cosby,  was 
a  native  of  Spottsylvania  County,  Virginia ;  but 
whether  she  belonged  to  the  first,  or  second,  or  third 
families,  I  do  not  know.  But  this  I  do  know — she  was 
lovely  and  good  enough  to  have  belonged  to  the  first 
and  highest  of  them  all.  While  she  was  yet  young 
her  father  removed  to  Georgia,  and  settled  in  that 
part  of  Wilkes  which  is  now  called  Elbert  County. 
Here  my  mother  grew  to  womanhood,  and  here  she 
became  decidedly  religious  and  attached  herself  to  the 
Methodist  Church — a  step  which  at  that  time  required 
considerable  nerve,  as  Methodism  was  imperfectly  un- 
derstood and  greatly  persecuted.    Her  parents  were 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


31 


Episcopalians,  and  were,  of  course,  sternly  opposed 
to  her  ;  yet,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  hinderances,  she 
boldly  decided  to  follow  her  conscientious  convictions 
and  unite  her  fortunes  with  those  of  the  people  of  her 
choice,  which  she  did,  and  was  probably  among  the 
earliest  converts  to  Methodism  in  the  State  of  Georgia. 
Her  course  subsequently  was  straightforward  and  con- 
sistent ;  a  gentle,  quiet  spirit,  never  bold  or  confident 
in  the  expression  of  her  religious  feelings,  yet  uniformly 
religious,  loving  God  and  his  Church,  saying  no  harm 
of  anybody,  and  doing  all  the  good  she  could.  My 
mother  was  no  shouter,  and  I  think  that  at  the  time 
of  my  earliest  recollections  she  was  not  very  fond  of 
shouting,  though  everything  with  her  depended  upon 
the  character  of  the  shouters.  But  she  loved  the 
house  of  God,  and  in  the  class-meetings  and  other 
means  of  grace  she  greatly  delighted. 

"  My  father's  misfortunes  involved  her  in  much 
trouble,  bringing  her  into  circumstances  to  which  she 
was  not  accustomed.  Poverty  was  upon  her  house- 
hold, and  she  felt  it  was  her  duty  to  contribute,  as  far 
as  possible,  to  the  support  and  training  of  her  children, 
not  only  by  carefully  husbanding  the  limited  means 
placed  at  her  disposal,  but  by  contributing  her  own 
exertions  to  increase  the  store.  She  was  a  very  in- 
dustrious woman,  and  could  ply  her  knitting-needles 
beyond  almost  any  one  I  ever  knew  ;  and  many  a  bushel 
of  corn  and  many  a  piece  of  meat  was  contributed  by 
her  skill  in  this  department  to  the  sustenance  of  her 
household.  This  was  certainly  much  better  than  to 
insinuate  that  her  husband's  bad  management  had 
brought  the  family  into  trouble. 

"  I  had  as  well  say  just  here  that  my  mother  was  a 


32 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


very  great  reader.  I  have  seen  her  sit  for  hours  ab- 
sorbed in  some  interesting  volume,  while  her  fmgers 
were  rapidly  doing  their  work  with  her  knitting- 
needles.  In  the  management  of  her  children,  she  was 
kind  and  gentle,  but  firm  and  judicious,  leading  us  by 
her  kindness,  but  knowing  well  how  to  use  the  rod 
when  it  became  necessary.  I  was  the  only  son  till  I 
was  grown,  and  of  course  I  was  in  some  danger  of 
being  a  spoiled  boy  ;  and  possibly,  if  my  parents  had 
continued  in  a  state  of  prosperity,  I  might  have  been 
so,  for  I  learned  from  my  mother  that  I  used  to  be 
very  delicate.  She  was  afraid  of  the  rain  and  of  the 
sunshine,  and  dreaded  to  have  me  endure  the  slight- 
est exposure,  lest  it  might  give  me  a  cold  or  a  fever, 
and  I  was  likely  to  grow  up  a  poor,  puny  sprout ;  but 
it  pleased  God  to  send  us  poverty,  and  straightway 
the  pale  and  puny  boy  had  to  go  to  the  mill,  often  in  the 
rain,  and  frequently  in  the  cold,  wintry  days,  without 
shoes.  He  had  to  become  a  boy  of  all  work,  which 
necessitated  a  good  deal  of  exposure  every  day,  and, 
as  a  consequence,  he  became  tough,  and  healthy,  and 
self-reliant.  To  this  I  am  largely  indebted  for  a  good 
constitution,  which  has  sustained  a  good  many  years 
of  the  wear  and  tear  of  itinerant  life. 

"  My  mother  took  great  pains  to  guide  my  young 
mind  and  heart  in  the  ways  of  knowledge  and  peace. 
She  taught  my  heart  and  my  lips  to  pray  before  I  can 
remember ;  so  that  I  do  not  recollect  a  single  day 
of  my  life  in  which  I  did  not  pray.  She  had  read 
much,  and  was  quite  an  intelligent  woman,  so  that 
she  was  well  qualified  to  guide  my  infant  thoughts 
into  the  incipient  paths  of  knowledge.  She  was  pas- 
sionately fond  of  poetry,  and  used  often  to  convey  to 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


33 


my  mind  many  of  those  valuable  maxims  which  have 
been^  largely  influential  in  the  formation  of  my  char- 
acter. I  can  now  look  back  with  lively  interest  to 
those  precious  moments  when,  with  her  boy  standing 
beside  her,  she  directed  his  childish  heart  to  the  char- 
acter and  religion  of  the  blessed  Saviour.  And  I  re- 
member how  she  used  to  lay  her  hands  upon  my  head, 
and  bless  me.  O  !  how  often  did  she  thus  renew  her 
dedication  of  me  to  God,  and  pray  that  he  would 
make  me  a  minister  !  and  how  she  looked  when,  on 
one  occasion,  she  said,  *  I  would  rather  see  you  a 
faithful  preacher  of  the  gospel  than  emperor  of  the 
world  !  ' 

When  I  returned  annually  to  visit  my  parents,  we 
used  to  have  quite  a  household  jubilee  ;  and  my 
mother's  kind  heart  devised  all  sorts  of  good  things 
for  her  dear  James,  while  my  father  smoked  his  pipe 
and  blessed  me,  and  my  sisters  were  so  happy  be- 
cause brother  had  come  home.  And  when  the  time 
came  for  me  to  leave,  O,  how  many  blessings  and 
prayers  followed  me  to  my  next  work  !  My  precious 
mother's  parting  salute,  as  she  threw  her  arms  around 
my  neck  and  kissed  me,  was,  *  And  now,  my  son,  re- 
member that  I  live  if  you  stand  fast  in  the  Lord,  and 
continue  faithful  in  the  work  of  your  Master.' 

As  old  age  approached,  she  became  more  cheer- 
ful and  happy,  her  confidence  in  God  growing  stronger 
as  she  neared  the  close  of  her  journey.  It  was  a 
prominent  trait  in  her  character  that  she  thought 
kindly  of  everybody  ;  hence,  she  never  indulged  in 
evil-speaking,  and  used  gently  to  rebuke  those  who 
did  so  in  her  presence.  She  always  put  the  best  con- 
struction on  the  behavior  of  others,  and  where  their 

2* 


34 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


conduct  could  not  be  justified,  she  yet  hoped  for  the 
best,  and  was  sure  to  bring  in  some  mitigating  cir- 
cumstances. She  was  a  charming  specimen  of  a 
cheerful  and  happy  old  age,  not  growing  sour  with 
increasing  years,  but  happier  and  more  cheerful.  The 
young  people  all  loved  and  sought  her  company,  and 
she  delighted  in  having  them  about  her,  and  in  minis- 
tering to  their  enjoyment. 

But  at  length  the  weary  wheels  of  life  stood  still. 
She  was  attacked  with  a  painful  disease  to  which  she 
had  been  some  time  subject.  I  was  just  closing  a 
Conference  at  Athens,  Georgia,'  when,  hearing  that 
she  was  ill,  I  hastened  home  in  time  to  watch  her  clos- 
ing hours,  and  receive  her  dying  blessing.  It  was  a 
sad  thought  that  I  could  no  longer  look  on  my 
mother's  venerable  form,  nor  hear  that  voice  which 
had  been  wont  to  instruct  me  and  bless  me  so  often. 
Still,  it  was  matter  of  devout  thanksgiving  to  God  that 
she  had  been  spared  to  us  so  many  years,  that  my 
children  might  know  and  love  her,  and  that  she  might 
give  them  her  dying  blessing.  I  felt,  too,  that  it  was 
cause  of  gratitude  to  God  that  she  had  been  so  gra- 
ciously sustained  throughout  her  long  and  checkered 
pilgrimage,  and  that  the  grace  of  God  was  richly 
vouchsafed  to  her  in  her  closing  hours,  so  that  she  not 
only  lived  well,  but  died  in  the  Lord.  Thanks  be  to 
God  for  his  unspeakable  gift.  My  parents  were  not 
among  the  titled  and  the  rich,  but  I  glory  in  having 
descended  from  parents  who  loved,  trusted,  and 
served  God,  and  whose  faith  finally  triumphed  over 
death,  and  showed  them  the  way  to  the  throne  of 


In  January,  1846. 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


35 


God.  There  they  rest^  and  there  I  hope  to  meet 
them." 

So  far  the  sketch  of  these  excellent  people,  drawn 
by  the  loving  hand  of  a  dutiful  son.  Their  humble 
home  was  the  home  of  the  preachers.  The  memory 
of  the  boy  could  not  go  behind  the  time  that  these 
good  men  were  not  at  home  in  his  father's  cabin. 
When  he  was  fifteen,  just  after  he  was  converted, 
there  came  to  his  father's  house  the  young  Elder ; 
Lovick  Pierce  was  his  name,  and  he  was  the  young- 
est Presiding  Elder  Methodism  had  in  it.  He  lived 
for  ye^s  after  Bishop  Andrew  died,  and  in  his  mem- 
orial sermon  he  says  of  the  family  : 

**  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Bishop  Andrew's  fam- 
ily in  1809,  in  Elbert  County,  being  Presiding  Elder  on 
the  old  Oconee  District.  The  family  was  poor,  but 
famous  for  the  virtues  of  pure  practical  godliness.  His 
father,  the  Rev.  John  Andrew,  was  a  regular  educator, 
teaching  only  an  English  school  of  a  very  respectable 
grade.  Here  James  Osgood,  I  think,  received  all  his 
early -literary  outfit  for  a  long  and  useful  career  as  an 
itinerant  Methodist  preacher  and  Bishop.  Although 
his  education  was  far  below  what  it  ought  to  have 
been,  as  preparatory  to  the  future  successful  studies 
of  a  yqung  preacher,  it  was  quite  above  the  level  from 
which  most  of  us  commenced  our  course.  He  after- 
ward added  a  great  deal  to  the  sum  of  his  knowledge 
by  those  irregular  studies  for  which  we  of  that  day 
were  very  remarkable ;  for  while  in  the  way  of  any 
systematic  course  of  study,  we  had  none,  yet,  in  our 
way,  we  were  even  more  studious  than  the  present 
generation  of  preachers.  I  will  not  say  how  far  he 
pushed  out  his  mind  into  the  regioifs  beyond  the  com- 


36 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


mon  range  of  itinerant  preachers  in  his  day.  He  did 
acquire  some  learning  beyond  what  he  ever  professed. 

'  *  Bishop  Andrew's  mother  was  one  of  nature's  noble- 
women— ennobled  by  the  charms  of  a  pure,  rational, 
fervent  piety — a  woman  of  fine,  practical,  common 
sense,  a  mother  whose  speech  was  always  with  grace, 
seasoned  with  salt,  that  ministered  grace  to  the  hearer. 
Her  maternal,  domestic  piety  issued  from  her  sancti- 
fied life  like  fragrance  from  a  rose,  until  all  that  could 
inhale  or  absorb  its  nature  became  imbued  with  it. 
The  beautiful  imprint  of  all  that  was  lovely  in  the 
moral  and  intellectual  character  of  the  mother  was 
made  upon  her  son.  One  familiar  with  Paul's  allusion 
to  the  grandmother  and  mother  of  Timothy,  will  see 
that  in  this  case  the  same  medium  of  conveying  the 
faith  of  grandmothers  and  mothers  to  the  Timothys 
of  this  generation  remains  open,  and  furnishes  to  the 
Church  their  moral  and  spiritual  duplicates  in  copies 
of  genuine  stamp." 

Such  Avere  the  people  from  whom  he  sprung.  Al- 
though John  Andrew  was  in  these  early  days  not  in 
society,  his  family  does  not  seem  to  have  severed  its 
connection  with  it,  and  James  went  regularly  to  the 
monthly  appointment  of  the  circuit  rider,  and  to  the 
Sunday  appointment  of  the  local  preacher.  He  re- 
mained, no  doubt,  often  at  class,  and,  being  possessed  of 
a  deep  religious  nature,  he  was  never  far  from  the  King- 
dom of  God.  He  never  remembered  the  day  when 
he  did  not  pray,  nor  did  the  native  evil  of  the  human 
heart  ever  rule  him  with  full  sway.  He  was  a  gushing, 
joyous,  fun-loving  boy.  He  hunted  and  fished  with 
a  Southern  boy's  ardor,  but  was  always  religious  in 
his  feeHngs.    He  says  in  his  journal,  begun  when 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


37 


he  was  in  Wilmington,  of  his  parents  and  their  train- 
ing: "  They  were  both  pious  and  feared  the  Lord, 
and  taught  their  children  also  to  believe  they  were 
fallen  creatures,  and  must  be  born  again  if  they 
would  see  the  Kingdom  of  God  ;  nor  were  these  les- 
sons lost  upon  me,  and  I  trust  I  shall  never  forget 
them.  I  recollect  that  rny  earliest  reflections  were  of 
an  eternal  nature.  I  used  to  pray  when  quite  a  child, 
and  was  constantly  followed  with  an  awful  sense  of 
my  fallen  condition,  and  the  necessity  of  a  change  of 
heart,  ink  it  was  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1 809 

that  I  attended  a  camp-meeting  and  was  powerfully 
awakened,  and  before  the  camp-meeting  broke  up,  I 
professed  to  have  found  peace,  though  I  have  fre- 
quently doubted  it  since.  I  returned  home,  and 
shortly  after  joined  society  at  a  meeting-house,  now 
called  Asbury  Chapel,  in  Broad  River  Circuit.  I 
have  remained  in  society  ever  since,  though  I  have 
more  than  once  back-slidden  in  heart,  yet  I  never  was 
so  far  gone  as  to  be  willing  to  leave  the  service  of 
God." 

He  was  a  little  over  fifteen  years  old  when  he  made 
an  open  profession  of  religion  and  joined  society,"  as 
he  writes  it.    The  circuit  was  Broad  River. 

In  those  days  the  charges  were  generally  four  or 
five  weeks'  circuits  with  twenty-eight  appointments. 
The  only  rest  day  was  Monday,  and  the  preacher  rested 
where  Monday  found  him. 

The  first  Methodist  preacher  whom  James  Andrew 
probably  remembered  was  Hope  Hull.  Mr.  Hull  had 
married  a  kinswoman  of  his  mother  and  had  been  a 
true  yoke-fellow  of  his  father.  Once  Hull  wrote  to 
John  Andrew  that  he  had  such  views  of  heaven,  that 


38 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


if  he  had  some  good  friend  to  help  him,  he  could 
shout  a  mile  high.  Hull  took  little  James  when  a  babe 
in  his  arms,  baptized  him,  and,  tradition  says,  prayed 
that  he  might  grow  up  a  good  boy,  be  happily  con- 
verted, become  a  Methodist  preacher,  and  die  a 
Methodist  Bishop.  Then,  while  he  was  a  little  boy, 
came  Stith  Mead,  with  his  persuasive  eloquence  and 
melodious  voice,  to  conduct  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful revivals  of  religion  ever  known  in  Georgia  ;  and 
then  came  Epps  Tucker,  with  commanding  presence 
and  attractive  manner,  and  now  James  Russell,  the 
peerless,  whose  earnestness,  fluency,  homely  illustra- 
tion, magnetic  powers,  deep  unction,  and  the  God- 
given  success  which  attended  his  toils  made  the  won- 
der of  the  times.  James  must  have  had  a  vivid  mem- 
ory of  that  great  revival,  when  James  Russell,  at- 
tended by  his  local  preacher,  went  through  the  coun- 
try, holding  great  meetings,  in  which  hundreds  were 
converted.  There  were  some  of  the  preachers  whom 
he  heard  in  his  boyhood,  but  there  was  n^e  who 
made  such  an  impression  upon  him  as  was  made  by 
Lorenzo  Dow.  Lorenza  had  passed  through  Elbert 
and  left  an  appointment.  It  was  for  eight  o'clock 
at  night,  perhaps  eighteen  months  ahead.  The  day 
came  and  the  people  gathered  together,  and  just  at 
the  time  appointed,  a  negro  with  a  pine  torch  came 
stalking  through  the  woods,  with  Lorenzo  behind 
him. 

He  went  into  the  pulpit,  and  preached,  as  usual, 
against  Calvinism.  The  All-part  people,  as  he  called 
them,  had  their  full  share  of  attention,  and,  suddenly 
turning  to  a  Baptist  preacher,  who  had  no  thought 
that  he  was  known,  and,  pointing  his  long,  keen  finger 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


39 


at  him,  Lorenzo  screamed  out :  Now,  don't  you  ever 
preach  that  doctrine  again." 

Then  came  the  young  Presiding  Elder,  Lovick 
Pierce,  whose  youth  and  whose  gifts  were  in  such 
strange  contrast.  He  was  the  Elder  after  Ivy,  Mead, 
and  Randle,  old  and  experienced,  and  did  his  work 
as  well  as  they  ;  and  then  came  almost  every  year 
the  wonderful  Asbury.  As  certain  as  the  time,  either 
in  his  chaise  or  mounted  on  his  old  gray,  the  vener- 
able, beloved  old  bishop  would  come  to  Elbert  and 
Wilkes.  Hope  Hull,  and  Thomas  Grant,  and  David 
Merriwether  would  be  on  hand  to  meet  him,  and  he 
would  move  through  the  country  to  the  conferences 
which  were  soon  to  meet. 

In  those  days  the  camp-meetings  were  great  oc- 
casions. They  were  really  camp-meetings.  The  peo- 
ple came  miles  and  miles.  They  came  prepared  to 
camp  out ;  they  were  used  to  it  when  there  were  no 
railways,  and  everything  which  was  sold  was  wagoned 
to  Augusta.  Then  such  preaching  and  such  singing. 
There  the  songs  were  not  always  good  rhyme  or  rea- 
son, though  they  were  not  inferior  to  some  that  we 
have  in  our  city  Sunday-schools  even  now  ;  but  their 
lack  of  poetic  merit  was  atoned  for  by  the  heartiness 
with  which  they  were  sung. 

It  might  have  been  at  one  of  these  camp-meetings 
— probably  it  was — that  one  afternoon  Jimmy  Russell 
preached,  and  when  all  the  multitude  were  enthused, 
he  leaped  over  the  low  book  board,  and  cried,  "  all  who 
want  religion,  follow  me,"  and  to  the  woods  went  the 
great  procession.  These  were  stirring  times.  Many 
were  converted,  and  many,  very  many,  remained  so. 

The  descendants  of  those  converted  in  the  great  re- 


40 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


vivals  and  camp-meetings  of  those  years  are  numbered 
by  the  thousand  and  fill  our  churches.  Such  were  the 
preachers  and  such  were  the  times  of  James  Andrew's 
youth. 

He  had  felt  from  his  earliest  childhood  that  he  must 
preach.  God  not  rarely  sets  apart  a  man  from  his 
mother's  womb  for  this  work  and  impresses  it  upon  him. 
After  his  conversion  the  conviction  grew ;  but  then  he 
was  so  young,  so  timid,  so  awkward,  so  unlearned. 
Then,  too,  he  was  the  oldest  son,  Harbert  was  a  baby, 
the  little  girls  could  not  go  to  the  mill  or  plow  the 
corn,  and  help  his  father  get  the  wood  ;  how  could  he 
go  away  from  home  ?  But,  oh  !  the  call,  the  call !  In 
those  days  the  sense  of  God's  favor  was  a  real  sensa- 
tion, and  when  darkness  came  it  was  a  sad  day  for  the 
Methodist.  The  struggle  went  on,  and  John  Andrew 
saw  it.  He  knew  the  cause  ;  he  knew  why  his  boy  de- 
bated and  he  bade  him  go,  and  so  said  the  gentle  Mary. 
Once  another  Mary  took  an  alabaster  box  of  precious 
ointment  and  anointed  the  head  of  the  Master,  and 
now  this  Mary  took  what  to  her  was  more  precious 
than  many  boxes  of  ointment,  her  oldest  born,  and 
gave  him  to  the  Master.  She,  too,  did  what  she  could. 

He  must  be  licensed  and  recommended.  The  class 
and  the  society  Avhere  he  held  his  membership  were 
ready  enough  to  endorse  him,  but  what  would  the 
quarterly  conference  do  ?  There  were  twenty-eight 
societies  in  it,  and  perhaps  fifty  class  leaders,  twenty 
local  preachers,  and  nine  stewards.  It  was  a  great 
conference  in  those  times.  The  boy  came  up  for 
license.  Did  he  have  gifts  ?  Did  he  have  grace  ? 
Did  he  have  fruit  ?  He  was,  perhaps,  not  prepossess- 
ing in  look ;  John  Andrew,  his  father,  was  not  in  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


41 


best  favor  with  some  in  the  conference,  and  then  he 
was  so  young.  He  could  not  preach,  said  some,  and 
he  never  would  be  able,  said  others. 

Epps  Tucker,  however,  had  great  influence,  and  he 
spoke  for  him.  No  breath  had  ever  blown  upon  his 
good  name,  and  then,  perhaps,  the  young  Elder  spoke 
a  word  for  him  ;  and  so  James  Andrew  was  licensed 
and  recommended  to  the  conference  of  1812. 

The  Presiding  Elder  put  him  up  to  preach  ;  Moses 
Andrew  gave  him  a  text.  How  well  he  succeeded  is 
evidenced  by  the  wofd  of  John  Marks,  one  of  his 
father's  life-long  friends:  "  Jeems,"  he  said,  I  voted 
for  you  to  be  a  preacher,  but  if  I  had  heered  that  ser- 
mon I  wouldn't  have  done  it."  But  he  was  licensed, 
and  he  sent  by  Lovick  Pierce  his  name  to  the  confer- 
ence in  Charleston  for  admission,  and  in  1812  he  was 
admitted  on  trial.    He  was  in  his  nineteenth  year. 


42 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  II. 


THREE  YEARS  ON  CIRCUITS. 


1812-1815. 


The  Conference  of  1812.— The  Timely  Gift.— The  Appointment  Received 
— The  Salt  Ketcher  Circuit. — William  Kennedy.— His  First  Letter 
Home. — His  Father's  Letters  to  Him,— Thomas  Darley.— Anecdote 
from  Bishop  McTyiere.— Home  Again.— Bladen  Circuit  in  1814. — The 
Journey. — The  Scotch  Highlanders.— Hard  Times.— Success  in  the 
Word.— The  Conference  of  1814  — Milledgeville.— Asbury  and  Mc- 
Kendree.— The  Warren  Circuit.— Incidents.— Letters. 

'nr^HE  Conference  met  in  Charleston,  December  19, 


X  1812.  Bishop  Asbury  was  present,  and  Mc- 
Kendree  came  with  him  on  his  first  visit  to  South 
CaroHna.  Nineteen  were  admitted  on  trial.  Hen- 
derson Ray  heads  the  list — a  wiry,  little  man,  with 
immense  will  and  endurance,  who  did  the  hard  work 
assigned  faithfully,  and  died  many  years  after  this  in 
the  work.  Samuel  K.  Hodges  was  another  who  died 
in  the  harness.  Clear-headed,  enterprising,  energetic, 
he  was  long  a  leader  in  the  Georgia  and  South  Caro- 
lina Conferences.  None  of  the  remainder  of  this  large 
class  continued  very  long  in  the  traveling  connection. 
Young  Andrew  was  not  at  the  conference  when  he 
was  admitted  on  trial,  and  was  somewhat  surprised 
that  they  received  him. 

The  South  Carolina  Conference  extended  from  the 
Indian  Nation  on  the  west,  then  in  the  centre  of 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


43 


Georgia,  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean  on  the  east,  and  from 
Fayetteville,  in  North  CaroHna,  to  Saint  Mary's,  in 
Georgia.  It  gave  appointments  to  twenty-eight 
preachers  in  South  Carohna,  fourteen  in  North  Caro- 
Hna, and  twenty-eight  in  Georgia. 

Lovick  Pierce  was  the  Presiding  Elder  of  the 
Oconee  District,  and  although  his  district  had  in  it  but 
three  circuits,  those  circuits  embraced  all  of  Georgia 
above  Milledgeville.  Joseph  Tarpley,  a  Virginian, 
large,  commanding,  eloquent ;  Lewis  Myers,  a  Ger- 
man, stout,  hard-headud,  decided,  were  Presiding  El- 
ders of  the  other  two  Georgia  districts. 

There  were  about  twenty-three  thousand  members 
where  there  are  now  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand white  Methodists  alone,  and  as  many  colored. 

The  circuits  were  large,  and  had  on  them  generally 
two  preachers,  who  required  four  weeks  to  get  round. 
They  were  not  bounded  by  county  lines,  and  were 
generally  called  after  some  main  river  or  creek  which 
flowed  through  them. 

In  the  lower  part  of  South  Carolina,  rising  in  Barn- 
well and  running  through  Colleton  and  Beaufort  Dis- 
tricts was  the  Salt  Catcher  River.  The  large  circuit 
in  this  section  of  the  State  was  called  the  Salt  Catcher, 
and  to  it  James  O.  Andrew  was  sent,  with  James  C. 
Sharp  as  a  senior  preacher. 

In  the  latter  years  of  Bishop  Andrew's  life,  when 
he  was  nearly  sixty  years  old,  and  had  been  in  the 
ministry  over  forty  years,  he  wrote  a  series  of  articles, 
*'  The  Reminiscences  of  an  Itinerant."  They  give  us 
a  clear  view  of  many  scenes  which  would  otherwise  be 
entirely  hidden  from  us,  and  while  I  shall  not  publish 
them  in  their  entirety,  I  shall  draw  copiously  from 


44 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


them.  The  first  gives  an  account  of  the  Salt  Kecher 
Circuit  and  his  years  upon  it : 

''I  was  sitting,  yesterday  evening,  about  nightfall, 
on  my  piazza,  when  a  very  simple  incident  led  me  to 
a  review  of  the  past,  and  while  indulging  in  this  re- 
trospect, memory  was  busy  and  brought  up  before 
me  many  of  the  prominent  events  of  my  life  for  more 
than  fifty  years,  carrying  me  back  to  the  days  of  my 
boyhood,  and  from  that  as  a  starting-point,  leading 
onward  through  the  days  of  youth  and  early  man- 
hood, and  through  a  ministerial  life  of  nearly  forty 
years.  There  was  a  sort  of  melancholy  pleasure  in 
the  train  of  thought  into  which  I  was  led.  My  early 
doubts  and  conflicts  came  up  before  my  vision  ;  my 
youthful  failures  and  blunders,  all  rose  before  me, 
and  the  retrospect  was  humiliating  enough.  How 
sad  at  heart  when  I  thought  of  it  all,  and  how  pain- 
fully the  question  came  to  me,  how  much  wiser  and 
better,  and  how  much  more  useful  might  I  have  been 
had  I  been  more  studious,  more  holy,  more  prayerful, 
and  more  industrious. 

"  I  have  been  for  about  forty  years  a  minister  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Tliere  ought  to  have  been  abundance 
of  fruit ;  many  hundred  precious  souls  ought  to  have 
been  converted  to  God  through  my  instrumentahty ; 
but  how  stands  the  account  ?  I  trust  I  have  not  been 
altogether  useless.  I  hope  some  are  already  lodged 
in  Abraham's  bosom  who  have  been  the  seals  of  my 
humble  ministry  ;  and  others,  perhaps,  are  journeying 
heavenward  who  may  be  stars  in  my  crown  of  re- 
joicing. But,  alas  !  how  few  compared  with  the  thou- 
sands who  have  from  time  to  time  heard  the  word  of 
God  at  my  lips.    Oh,  that  I  had  lived  better,  preached 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  45 


more,  and  preached  under  a  deeper  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  !  I  almost  involuntarily  cry,  Oh,  that 
I  could  live  over  again  the  days  that  are  past,  that  I 
might  give  more  thorough  and  abundant  evidence  of 
my  ardent  and  undying  love  for  Him  who  redeemed 
me  ;  but  then  the  question  arises,  even  if  this  wish 
were  granted,  would  I  live  and  preach  any  better  than 
I  have  done  ?  It  is  at  least  doubtful.  My  life  would 
probably  be  as  it  has  been,  neither  better  nor  more 
useful  than  the  past.  But  there  is  a  more  profitable 
way  than  the  indulgence  of  impracticable  wishes.  I 
may  turn  the  failures  of  the  past  to  good  account  for 
the  future.  I  know  not  how  long  that  future  maybe, 
but  doubtless  He  who  holds  the  issues  of  life  and 
death  in  His  hands,  will  continue  me  in  the  field  of 
life  and  action  just  as  long  as  He  sees  will  be  best ; 
then  let  me  throw  myself  on  the  mercy  of  God  for 
the  past,  and,  invoking  that  aid  which  was  never 
piously  invoked  in  vain,  address  myself  to  the  task  of 
living  and  preaching  better  for  the  time  that  yet  re- 
mains.   God  help  me  to  do  so.    Amen  !  Amen  ! 

I  entered  the  itinerancy  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church  at  a  Conference  held  in  the  city  of 
Charleston  in  December,  18 12.  I  was  not  present, 
for  it  was  not  then  esteemed  orthodox  for  applicants 
for  admission  on  trial,  or  even  those  who  had  trav- 
eled one  year,  to  attend  the  conferences. 

"  The  old  fathers  diligently  inculcated  on  the  minds 
of  the  young  preachers  that  they  had  no  business  at 
Conference  till  they  were  needed  for  examination  be- 
fore that  body.  My  appointment  was  Salt  Ketcher 
Circuit  for  1813.  I  shall  never  forget  my  feelings 
when  I  heard  the  name  of  my  field  of  labor.  There 


46 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


was  something  sad  in  the  very  name  ;  and  then  where 
was  it  ?  To  a  raw  backwoods  boy  like  myself,  it 
sounded  ominously,  for  I  had  never  been  a  hundred 
miles  from  home.  I  had,  indeed,  once  accompanied 
a  neighbor  with  his  wagon  to  Augusta,  which  was  the 
great  market  for  our  produce,  and  distant  some  seven- 
ty-five miles.  This  was  quite  an  important  event  in 
my  history,  and  stamped  me,  in  my  own  estimation,  as 
a  considerable  traveler.  But  then  this  said  Salt 
Ketcher,  as  I  ascertained,  was  in  South  Carolina,  and 
might  be  found  somewhere  between  Augusta  and 
Charleston.  The  hour  of  parting  was  a  sad  one  ;  yet 
it  was  not  unmingled  with  pleasure.  There  was  no 
opposition  from  parents.  They  had  given  me  to  God 
from  my  birth,  and  now,  when  they  pressed  me  fondly 
to  their  bosoms,  and  gave  me  the  parting  adieu,  it  was 
accompanied  with  an  impressive  charge  to  be  faithful 
to  my  work  and  the  God  who  had  called  me  to  it.  I 
left  with  their  blessing  and  their  prayers.  Even  now, 
after  the  lapse  of  forty  years,  the  scene  is  vividly  be- 
fore me,  as  though  it  were  yesterday.  There  stood 
my  aged  father  and  my  precious  mother  at  the  door 
of  their  cabin  in  Elbert  County,  Georgia,  and  gave  me 
their  blessing,  and  I  mounted  my  little  black  pacer  (a 
present  from  a  kind  friend  who  had  long  known  my 
father  and  his  circumstances),  whom  I  called  Cicero, 
by  way  of  signifying  my  appreciation  of  classic  oratory, 
and  who  afterward  bore  me  over  many  a  weary  mile. 

I  was  now  fairly  launched  upon  life's  ocean,  and  had 
only  God  and  myself  to  rely  on.  It  was  a  day  of  sad- 
ness, for  I  had  just  left  the  home  of  my  childhood 
and  those  who  loved  me  best  and  were  best  beloved  ; 
and  I  was  going  forth  to  grapple  with  life's  stern  real- 


yames  Osgood  Andreiv. 


47 


ities,  and  that,  too,  among  strangers.  I  was  now  in 
my  nineteenth  year,  and  about  as  timid  a  lad  as  ever 
left  a  father's  house  for  a  circuit.  I  need  not  dwell  on 
the  loneliness  of  my  heart  during  my  first  day's  ride. 
I  lodged  the  first  night  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in 
Wilkes  County,  where  I  felt  quite  at  home,  for  I  had 
relatives  in  the  family  ;  and  when  I  left,  next  morning, 
I  felt  as  if  the  last  link  was  severed,  so  that  the  sec- 
ond day's  ride  was  more  lonely  than  the  first.  I  was 
in  a  strange  region,  and  knew  not  where  I  could  find 
a  night's  lodging  ;  for  although  there  might  be  no  lack 
of  houses,  yet,  gentle  reader,  there  was  another  diffi- 
culty in  my  case  besides  excessive  timidity — of  gold  I 
had  none  (don't  recollect  whether  up  to  that  time  I 
had  ever  seen  any),  and  of  bank  bills  or  silver,  pre- 
cious little.  The  evening  was  drawing  on  and  my  dis- 
quiet increasing,  when  a  man  rode  up,  and,  as  he  was 
going  my  way,  we  jogged  along  very  sociably.  He 
was  a  genteelly  dressed  and  rather  intelligent  colored 
man,  and  as  he  soon  ascertained  who  I  was,  he  very 
kindly  pressed  me  to  stop  and  lodge  at  his  house, 
which  was  directly  on  the  road.  Never  was  an  invi- 
tation more  welcome.  I  found  his  wife  genteel  in  her 
manners,  her  house  in  neat  order.  They  both  gave 
me  a  cordial  welcome,  and  I  passed  an  exceedingly 
pleasant  night,  and  my  kind  host  and  his  wife  sent  me, 
early  next  day,  on  my  journey  with  their  best  wishes. 
I  shall  never  forget  that  night  nor  the  kindness  of 
those  people.  I  know  not  what  has  become  of  them, 
but  I  earnestly  hope  God's  blessing  has  been  with 
them.  I  have  often,  in  later  years,  in  passing  through 
Columbia  County,  tried  to  identify  this  house,  but  in 
vain. 


48 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


"  The  next  afternoon  I  passed  through  Augusta,  and, 
crossing  the  sand-bar  ferry,  first  touched  the  soil  of 
South  CaroHna.  Having  gained  the  highlands,  I  be- 
gan to  think  it  was  time  to  look  out  for  another  night's 
lodging ;  and  as  I  did  not  know  how  near  I  might  be 
to  the  territory  of  the  veritable  Salt  Ketcher  Circuit 
itself,  I  inquired  of  the  first  man  I  met  if  he  knew 
where  any  Methodist  lived.  He  said,  'Yes  ;'  there  was 
a  settlement  of  them  about  Black  Swamp.  '  And  how 
far,  sir,  is  that  hence  ?  '  *  About  sixty  miles.'  Here 
was  a  damper.  However,  deciding  at  once  that  this 
was  rather  long  for  an  evening's  ride,  I  determined  to 
begin  asking  for  quarters,  and  continued  till  I  suc- 
ceeded. After  riding  a  mile  or  two,  I  saw  a  pretty 
good-looking  house  off  some  distance  from  the  road. 
I  rode  up  and  asked  for  lodgings.  The  good  lady  sent 
me  word  that  her  husband  had  gone  to  the  races,  but 
I  might  stay.  I  was  kindly  entertained,  though  I  did 
not  see  the  face  of  my  hostess.  The  next  day  I  rode 
to  Tinker's  Creek. 

"The  next  day  a  ride  of  some  thirty  miles  over  an 
exceedingly  lonely  pine  country,  brought  me  to  the 
house  of  the  Rev.  B.  Tarrant,  a  local  preacher,  who 
lived  not  far  (as  I  judged)  from  what  has  in  late  years 
been  known  as  Binnaker's  Camp-ground,  and  near  to 
what  was  then  called  Pine  Grove  Church.  In  this 
kind  family  I  found  a  cordial  welcome,  and  afterward 
found  it  a  pleasant  home. 

*'The  circuit  was  arranged  for  five  weeks,  and  em- 
braced what  is  now  included  in  the  Walterborough 
Circuit  and  a  portion  of  the  Black  Swamp  and  Barn- 
well Circuits,  and,  possibly,  a  portion  of  some  of  the 
colored  missions." 


yafues  Osgood  Andrew. 


49 


He  had  tried  to  preach  a  few  times,  but  had  little 
idea  of  sermon-making.  There  are  not  many  things 
more  puzzling  than  for  one  of  his  literary  training  to 
try  and  find  a  way  to  tell  what  he  knows.  He  had 
read  a  good  deal  in  general  literature  ;  some  of  the  old 
fictions — "  Plutarch's  Lives,"  "  Cicero's  Orations,"  and 
the  old  classics,  besides  his  Methodist  books — and  his 
education,  if  not  advanced,  was  good  as  far  as  it  went, 
and  far  beyond  that  of  most  of  the  people ;  but  here  he 
was,  not  quite  nineteen  years  old,  with  his  Bible  and 
hymn-book  and  discipline,  and  expected  to  preach 
every  day.  Happily  for  him  he  could  try  one  text 
twenty-eight  times,  and  he  could  lead  a  class  and  tell 
an  experience,  if  he  could  not  preach  a  sermon.  It 
will  be  a  sad  day  when  Methodist  preachers  can  preach 
a  sermon,  but  have  no  experience  to  tell. 

William  M.  Kennedy  was  his  Elder.  He  knew  the 
father  and  loved  the  boy,  and  good,  clear-headed 
Thomas  Darley  was  living  on  the  circuit,  and  they 
were  ready  to  help  him,  and  while  his  success  was  not 
brilliant,  he  went  on.  His  good  father  cheered  him 
with  a  letter  now  and  then  from  home.   Here  are  two  : 

From  JOHN  ANDREW. 

*'  My  Beloved  Son  : 

**  Since  I  wrote  the  one  you  will  hereafter  receive 
from  Augusta,  I  received  your  thrice-welcome  letter. 
I  say  thrice  for  three  reasons — I  rejoice  at  it,  first,  to 
hear  from  you  and  find  you  are  well ;  secondly  be- 
cause it  appears  to  give  satisfaction  to  your  friends 
here  (for  it  has  gone  the  rounds  of  your  friends)  and 
last  of  all  because  it  tells  that  you  are  engaged  in  that 
3 


50 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


most  important  work,  and  have  received  the  gracious 
work  of  GOD  in  your  soul !  Oh,  my  dear  boy,  your 
faithfulness  proves  my  life,  my  joy. 

"  Your  conflicts,  I  expect,  are  many,  but  they  are  mo- 
mentary, and  victory  is  sure  if  yo.u  apply  for  help  and 
remember  you  can  only  conquer  through  grace.  I 
think  the  life  of  an  Itinerant  Preacher  the  nearest 
Heaven  of  any  man  on  earth.  Where  he  is  faithful,  di- 
vested of  every  worldly  care,  secluded  from  the  noise 
and  bustle  of  the  world,  and  shut  up  in  God,  his  con- 
templations are  delightful,-  his  engagements  in  duty 
pleasant,  his  life  exemplary,  and  his  end  glorious. 

I  am  truly  glad  you  have  seen  your  colleague, 
and  more  so  that  you  are  pleased  with  him.  Strive,  my 
son,  to  deserve  his  affection,  and  if  you  are  united  you 
may  improve  by  his  piety  and  instruction,  and  nothing 
will  be  able  to  stand  against  your  united  zeal ;  even 
the  tall  sons  of  Anak  must  give  way,  and  GOD  will  give 
you  good  and  great  times.  Need  I  say  I  pray  for  you 
and  him  and  your  circuit.  My  manner  is  to  remember 
you  every  night  in  family  prayer,  and  to  meet  you 
every  evening  in  private. 

"  I  received  your  letter  on  Saturday  at  meeting,  and 
showed  it  to  your  Father  Marks.  He  rejoiced  to  hear 
from  you,  and  desires  me  to  remember  him  to  you, 
and  to  tell  you  to  write  him  often,  for  he  cannot  write. 
Brother  Gray  promised  me  to  write  you  from  Augusta. 
I  wrote  by  him  to  the  care  of  Brother  Lucius ;  I  ex- 
pect this  will  be  the  best  way  for  me  to  write  to  you. 
I  don't  like  to  put  you  to  so  much  expense  by  mail. 

I  will  now  give  you  the  news  of  the  place.  Your 
friend  John  Webb  lies  very  ill.  James  Gray  is  yet 
single.    I  expect  to  teach  this  year  at  the  old  school- 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


51 


house.  Brother  Robbins'  money  I  expect  to  get  set- 
tled, but  should  I  fail  I  will  write  to  you  and  you  must 
try  and  lay  it  up.  Brother  Brewer  is  very  low ;  he 
can't  live  long,  I  think.  The  society  here  are  still  dull. 
GOD  grant  a  revival.  When  you  write  again  say 
something  to  Nelson  and  Eady,  they  desire  to  be  re- 
membered to  you.  According  to  your  request  we 
have  often  kissed  dear  little  Harbert,  and  now  ask 
him  what  brother  said,  and  his  reply  is  Kiss  me. 
Lucy,  Betsy,  Caroline,  Patsy,  and  little  Judy,  say 
love  to  Brother.  I  must  now  give  you  a  few  direc- 
tions, my  son.  Write  more  and  with  greater  industry 
to  improve.  Take  pains  in  folding  and  directing. 
Suppose  you  keep  a  journal,  it  would  give  me  pleas- 
ure to  peruse  it.    Write  smaller. 

Once  more  and  I  have  done  for  this  time :  my  sin- 
cere wish  is  to  hear  of  your  prosperity.  Indeed,  I 
long  to  see  you,  but  I  know  it  cannot  now  be.  True,  I 
am  poor,  my  son,  in  the  world,  but  yet  I  am  rich  while 
God  is  mine  and  I  am  his,  and  in  having  a  son  in  the 
Vineyard  of  GOD.  I  feel  my  heart  more  in  the  work 
of  God  than  I  have  for  many  years.  Your  mother  is 
poorly,  but  I  hope  she  is  mending.  Farewell,  my  son  ; 
may  GOD  bless  you  and  keep  you.  Your  mother 
joins  me  in  love  to  you,  and  may  Heaven  keep  you. 
"  Your  affectionate  Father, 

John  Andrew. 

"February  16,  18 13.'* 

From  JOHN  ANDREW. 

"  Elbert,  July  3,  18 13. 

My  Dear  James  : 

"I  fear  my  writing  so  often  may  occasion  too  much 
expense,  but  several  occurrences  since  our  last,  together 


52 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


with  our  constant  wishes  to  give  you  every  caution 
we  think  necessary,  urge  me  to  write  this.  I  received 
yours  by  Brother  Myers,  but  I  have  written  you  since 
the  one  you  mention  the  receipt  of. 

We  are  anxious  to  hear  from  you,  for  in  your  last 
you  say  nothing  of  your  health,  and  Brother  Myers 
gave  us  as  little  satisfaction.  But  my  sure  trust  is  in 
GOD  that  he  will  preserve  you  safe.  Oh,  my  son,  we 
live  if  you  stand  fast.  While  I  write  George  and  Ma- 
tilda are  come.  We  have  had  good  times  here  lately. 
Merriwether  Marks's  (?)  wife.  Patsy  Moore,  and  The- 
resa (?)  Posey  have  all  been  converted  and  joined  so- 
ciety. My  Lucy  has  joined,  and  I  hope  she  is  in 
earnest.  At  our  quarterly  meeting  we  had  great  times. 
Many  of  the  young  people  were  brought  to  weep — 
Lanier,  Simeon  Rogers,  Oliver,  and  others.  Glory  to 
God,  forever  and  ever.  Doctor  Brewer  is  very  near  his 
last  hour.  Your  friends  have  all  seen  your  letters,  and 
they  wish  for  your  success.  Samuel  Leseur  is  not 
turned  out ;  I  wish  he  may  do  better.  Your  father 
Marks  told  me  to  say,  he  thanked  you  for  your  letter 
and  intended  to  write  you.  James,  have  you  wrote  to 
Patsy  Harvey  [his  aunt]  ?  She  has  been  long  confined 
in  a  melancholy  manner.  I  have  mentioned  all  that 
is  new. 

My  son,  if  you  get  sick  stay  not  below.  Come  home 
till  you  recover ;  and  now,  my  dear  boy,  may  heaven 
bless  you  and  direct  you.  Write  me  as  soon  as  you 
get  this.  Tell  me  from  your  sister  and  family.  Your 
mother,  Matilda,  George,  and  all  the  family  join  me 
in  love  to  you.  Farewell. 

Your  affectionate  Father, 

''John  Andrew." 


James  Osgood  Andreiv.  53 


The  son  writes  home.  Here  is  his  letter — the 
handwriting  is  that  of  a  school-boy,  not  at  all  like  his 
rugged  but  strong  hand  of  after  years — just  as  he 
wrote  it : 

"  My  Dear  Parents  : 

^'  I  am  yet  alive,  through  the  abundant  mercy  of  God, 
and  trying,  in  my  feeble  manner,  to  love  God  and 
preach  to  dying  sinners  with  too  little  success.  I  cal- 
culate that  you  are  by  this  time  beginning  to  grow 
uneasy  at  not  hearing  from  me  for  such  a  length  of 
time,  but  various  circumstances  have  made  it  im- 
possible for  me  to  visit  the  post-ofhce,  and  have  pre- 
vented my  writing  sooner.  I  also  know  the  expense 
of  postage  must  be  a  considerable  inconvenience  to 
you.  I  feel  as  much  bound  to  serve  the  Lord  as 
ever,  but  oh  !  it  seems  to  me  that  of  all  I  am  of 
God's  servants  the  most  unprofitable.  I  am,  I  think, 
unfaithful,  in  some  degree,  in  almost  everything  I  un- 
dertake. I  possess  too  little  of  the  mind  that  was  in 
Jesus  Christ  my  Lord.  I  love  God  too  little ;  I  feel 
too  little  for  the  welfare  of  Zion's  cause.  In  fact  it 
appears  to  me  that  I  am  lacking  in  every  Christian 
grace.  I  want  faith,  I  want  love,  I  want  humility. 
Oh,  pray  for  me  that  I  may  obtain  all  these  things. 
Times  in  the  circuit  are  not  very  encouraging, 
though  we  have  some  good  times. 

"  Political  affairs  interfere  much  with  religion.  I 
rejoice  to  hear  of  the  prosperity  of  Zion  in  my  dear 
old  society.  I  often  pray  for  them  and  long  to  see 
them  and  you.  I  calculate,  the  Lord  willing,  to  be 
at  home  about  Christmas.  Our  last  Q.  M.  will  be 
held  the  13th  and  14th  of  next  month.    The  country 


54 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


has  been  very  sickly,  but  God  has  been  my  protector. 
I  heard  from  my  sister  in  September,  when  they  were 
tolerable.  I  visited  them  in  July  ;  I  also  visited  Mrs. 
Lambright,  who  sends  a  great  deal  of  howdy  to  you. 
I  will  now  give  you  the  good  news  of  this  place. 
Commodore  Perry  has  captured  the  Lake  Erie  fleet. 
It  is  said,  I  believe  from  good  authority,  that  Chancey 
has  taken  five  British  vessels ;  also  that  our  armies 
have  formed  a  junction  and  captured  the  whole  of 
Proctor's  army,  except  himself  and  his  aids,  who  gal- 
lantly took  to  their  heels  and  left  their  brethren  in 
arms  to  shift  for  themselves.  The  consequence  of 
these  successes  is  that  a  smile  of  joy  rests  on  the 
countenance  of  every  honest  Republican.  Thank 
God  for  all  his  goodness.  It  will  not  be  worth  while 
to  write  again.  I  must  conclude  by  begging  to  be 
remembered  to  all  inquiring  friends. 

"  I  am  your  dutiful  Son, 

James  O.  Andrew." 

This  is  certainly  a  creditable  letter  for  a  boy  who 
has  had  but  little  time  for  correspondence,  and  shows 
that  his  education,  if  not  advanced,  was  good  as  far 
as  it  went. 

How  it  rings !  The  victories  !  the  victories ! 
Perry  has  whipped  their  fleet,  Chancey  has  captured 
five  ships.  Proctor  is  captured."  The  son  of  the  man 
who  rode  with  Screven,  and  the  descendant  of  the 
race  who  won  the  day  at  Naseby  will  show  his  blood.  , 
The  work  in  Salt  Ketcher  is  faithfully  done,  although 
it  has  not  been  apparently  successful.  If  anybody 
has  been  converted  he  does  not  know  it,  but  the  year 
is  gone  and  he  goes  back  to  Elbert.    Cicero  may  rest 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


55 


after  he  gets  home,  but  he  must  move  now,  for  mother 
is  waiting,  and  father  and  the  children  looking  out 
every  hour. 

Years  after  this,  when  Bishop  McTyiere  was  a  boy, 
he  heard  his  father  and  old  Brother  Hutto  talking  of 
old  times. 

*^  And  so,"  said  Brother  Hutto,  our  kinky-headed 
Jimmy  is  a  Bishop." 

Bishop,"  said  Dr.  McTyiere,  years  after  that,  **  I 
thought  you  were  kinky-headed." 

"  Oh,  so  I  was  once,  but  the  trials  of  life  have  taken 
all  the  kinks  out  of  me."  • 

The  boy  is  in  Elbert  again,  waiting  to  see  whether 
they  will  continue  him  on  trial.  The  Conference  met 
in  Charleston  again,  and  after  a  time  he  heard  of  his 
appointment.  He  was  to  go  to  Bladen,  in  North 
Carolina.  If  Salt  Ketcher  was  in  an  unknown  land, 
Bladen  was  more  so.  But  let  him  tell  the  story  of 
Bladen  and  how  he  got  there. 

I  was  continued  on  trial  and  appointed  to  travel  the 
Bladen  Circuit.  This,  as  I  ascertained,  was  a  good 
deal  further  off  than  Salt  Ketcher.  I  understood  it 
was  away  in  North  Carolina.  With  all  practicable 
despatch  I  packed  up  again  and  started  for  my  field 
of  labor. 

The  Bladen  Circuit  in  1814  was  mainly  in  North 
,  Carolina.  There  were  a  few  appointments,  however, 
in  the  limits  of  South  Carolina.  During  the  earlier 
part  of  the  year  I  travelled  it  alone,  and  preached 
once  in  two  or  three  weeks  at  each  appointment.  The 
latter  part  of  the  year  it  was  united  to  the  Deep  River 
Mission,  then  travelled  by  B.  C.  Scott.  After  the 
union  our  work  extended  from  Marion  District,  South 


56 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Carolina,  embracing  Roberson  and  Bladen  Counties, 
to  the  line  of  the  Virginia  Conference,  taking  in  Cum- 
berland and  Monroe  Counties  in  North  Carolina.  As 
to  the  face  of  the  country  it  is  not  necessary  to  say 
much  ;  in  one  part  we  had  swamps  and  pine  flats,  and 
in  the  upper  part  sand-hills  innumerable  and  of  no 
mean  altitude.  In  all  the  upper  portion  of  our  work, 
that  part  embraced  in  the  Deep  River  Mission,  the  in- 
habitants were  mostly  Scotch,  and  Scotia  had  a  re- 
spectable representation  in  all  parts  of  the  circuit. 
These  were  most  of  them  Presbyterians,  of  whom 
there  were  at  that  time  two  classes :  the  real  old 
Scotch  Presbyterian,  who  considered  it  no  harm  to 
drink  whiskey  or  apple  brandy  either.  Of  the  last  a 
great  deal  was  manufactured  in  that  country,  and  it 
was  said  to  be  in  great  demand  at  burials,  which  we're 
reported  to  be  frequently  scenes  of  perfect  carousal, 
where  those  who  had  assembled  to  lay  their  departed 
relatives  in  the  tomb  drank  so  deeply  as  to  be  unpre- 
pared for  the  performance  of  this  sad  task.  These 
real  old  Scotch  bloods  would  have  no  minister  except 
one  sent  over  from  Scotland.  They  must  have  one 
well  educated,  sound  in  doctrine  and  usages  of  the 
good  auld  Kirk,  and  then  whether  he  were  drunk  or 
sober  was  a  matter  of  no  consequence.  It  was  prob- 
ably deemed  of  some  consequence  that  he  should 
keep  his  parishioners  in  countenance  by  loving  and 
taking  a  social  glass.  But  there  was  another  class  of 
Presbyterians — a  very  different  class.  God  had  raised 
up  a  goodly  number  of  faithful  men  who  knew,  expe- 
rimentally, a  pardoning  God,  and  who  went  forth  to 
sound  an  alarm  to  the  slumbering  antinomian  churches 
of  their  order,  and  awaken  them  to  a  conviction  and 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


57 


the  nature  of  the  importance  of  experimental  and  prac- 
tical piety.  Nor  were  their  labors  in  vain  :  powerful 
revivals  of  religion  were  experienced  in  many  of  their 
churches,  and  many  were  happily  converted  and  added 
to  the  Lord.  These  preachers  were  known  by  the 
name  of  new  lights,  and  between  them  and  the  other 
class  there  was  of  course  no  kindly  feeling.  Many  of 
the  people  in  Neuse  and  Cumberland  Counties  spoke 
only  the  Gaelic,  and  could  understand  no  other  lan- 
guage, so  that  I  have  frequently  been  a  good  deal 
bothered  and  amused  at  the  same  time  at  my  own 
ineffectual  attempts  to  get  directions  when  I  had 
missed  my  w^ay. 

The  advent  of  two  Methodist  preachers  into  such  a 
country  gave  rise  to  no  little  speculation  as  to  our  real 
character  and  objects.  Some  supposed  we  were  too 
lazy  to  work  and  were  wandering  about  the  country 
to  live  without  labor,  while  others  charitably  asserted 
we  were  house  thieves,  who  had  broken  gaol  time 
enough  to  escape  the  gallows.  In  the  midst  of  all, 
however,  we  were  received  kindly  in  many  neighbor- 
hoods, and  succeeded  in  establishing  preaching  places 
and  small  societies  in  many  places.  God  gave  us 
some  fruit  of  our  labors. 

"We  had  our  difficulties  on  the  circuit;  still,  God 
was  with  us.  The  people  were  generally  kind,  and 
although  times  were  hard  and  provisions  exceedingly 
scarce,  yet  they  did  the  best  they  could.  I  recollect 
at  one  or  two  of  the  appointments  during  the  year  we 
had  neither  bread  nor  meat,  yet  providence  gave  us  a 
plentiful  supply  of  peas,  and  as  there  was  plenty  of 
grass  in  the  woods  the  cows  yielded  an  abundant 
supply  of  milk,  so  that  we  lacked  a  great  deal  of  starv- 
3* 


58 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ing.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  war  was  then 
raging  between  us  and  Great  Britain,  so  that  it  was 
necessarily  impossible  to  procure  sugar  and  coffee  at 
any  price  ;  but  then  we  were  independent ;  we  had 
plenty  of  substitutes.  There  was  no  embargo  upon 
the  labor  of  the  bees.    They  supplied  us  with  superior 

sweetening,"  and  as  for  coffee  we  threw  ourselves 
upon  our  reserved  rights  and  had  no  lack  of  substi- 
tutes. There  was  rye,  sweet  potatoes,  pinders,  the 
bran  of  corn-meal  parched — this  made  into  coffee, 
sweetened  with  molasses  and  drank  out  of  the  cup, 
made  a  grand  beverage. 

Now  we  had  the  pleasure  of  trying  all  these  in  turn, 
and  in  almost  every  variety  of  form ;  but  don't  ask  us 
which  we  preferred.  This  is  a  delicate  subject,  as  we 
feel  a  sort  of  kindly  old  acquaintance  regard  for  each 
and  every  one  of  them.  And  then  as  to  the  Chinese 
herb,  we  were  perfectly  independent  of  the  whole  tribe 
of  long  tails  in  the  Celestial  empire.  And  why  not, 
when  our  own  woods  yielded  so  abundantly  the  fra- 
grant sassafras  ?  I  recollect  to  have  visited  an  excel- 
lent Scotch  Presbyterian  family  where  every  kindness 
was  shown  me.  When  we  sat  down  to  dinner  the 
good  lady,  after  serving  us  with  an  ample  supply  of 
the  substantial,  went  to  the  cupboard  and,  taking  a 
very  nice  clean  gourd,  dipped  something  out  of  the 
piggin,  and  replenished  our  cups  with  the  genuine  fra- 
grant sassafras  tea,  and  this,  sweetened  with  honey, 
we  found  a  most  refreshing  and  delightful  beverage. 
But  the  year  at  length  closed,  and  I  took  my  leave  of 
many  kind-hearted  friends,  and  wended  my  way  to 
Conference  by  way  of  home. 

**  My  stay  at  home  was  brief,  as  I  had  to  attend  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  59 


Conference  which  sat  that  year  at  Milledgeville,  Ga. 
This  was  then  a  new  town  ;  the  stumps  fresh  in  the 
streets  and  everything  looked  new.  With  a  number 
of  other  preachers  I  stayed  at  the  house  of  a  Mrs. 
Jenkins,  whose  hospitahty  was  extended  to  us  without 
stint.  The  Conference  held  its  sessions  in  an  unfinished 
house  belonging,  I  think,  to  a  Brother  Reynolds. 
Bishop  McKendree  presided.  The  venerable  Asbury 
was  present  and  occasionally  took  the  chair.  Such, 
however,  were  his  infirmities  that  he  was  able-  to  give 
his  colleague  but  little  assistance.  I  had  occasionally 
seen  him  before.  Bishop  McKendree  I  saw  then  for 
the  first  time,  and  the  appearance  of  both  impressed 
me  deeply.  Bishop  Asbury  I  shall  never  forget.  His 
venerable  countenance,  and  the  deep  solemn  intona- 
tions of  his  voice  affected  me  greatly,  and  even  now 
the  recollection  of  him  as  I  saw  him  and  heard  him  on 
that  occasion  is  as  vivid  as  though,  it  were  only  last 
week.  He  usually  sat  on  the  platform  by  the  side  of 
his  colleague,  and  as  occasion  offered  threw  out  some 
of  those  sensible,  pithy  remarks  which  one  could 
neither  misunderstand  nor  forget.  I  heard  him  on  the 
Sabbath  morning  preach  in  the  church,  but  the  dis- 
course was  short  and  he  delivered  it  sitting.  Behind 
him  sat  his  old  and  long-tried  friend  and  fellow-laborer, 
Hope  Hull,  who  closed  the  services. 

**  It  was  then  announced  that  the  Bishop  was  unable 
to  attend  to  the  ordination  of  Deacons,  and  they  were 
invited  to  his  room  in  the  afternoon  for  the  purpose 
of  receiving  ordination.  Thither,  therefore,  in  com- 
pany with  a  pretty  large  class,  I  repaired  at  the  ap- 
pointed hour.  This  scene  was  an  affecting  and  im- 
pressive one.    Once  or  twice  the  venerable  Bishop 


Co 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


had  to  rest  during  the  services  of  ordination,  and 
seemed  quite  exhausted  when  it  was  finished. 

I  had  looked  forward  to  the  Conference  not  without 
feelings  of  dread  ;  it  was  a  grave  body  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  two  presiding  officers  rendered  it  still  more 
imposing.  I  had  not  been  without  some  apprehension 
that  I  should  fail  to  pass  the  ordeal  necessary  to  ad- 
mission into  full  connection,  but  the  trial  came  and  I 
passed  through  unharmed.  But  do  you  ask  how  I 
passed  before  the  examining  committee  ?  Ah,  my 
good  friend,  fortunately  for  me  and  a  score  of  others 
that  terrible  body  had  no  existence  in  that  day. 
The  Conference  only  inquired  whether  we  were  pious, 
industrious,  conducted  ourselves  prudently  among  the 
people,  and  whether  we  preached  acceptably  and 
usefully  ;  if  so,  we  passed  muster  without  any  further 
difficulty,  without  calling  us  up  before  three  or  four 
dignified  and  wise-looking  inquisitors,  who  after  study- 
ing each  man  his  lesson  for  twelve  months,  set  them- 
selves to  bother  young  greenhorns  about  logic  and 
grammar,  and  an  indefinite  number  of  other  things 
with  hard  names,  about  which,  in  the  glorious  old 
days,  we  were  never  troubled.  The  Conference  closed 
and  I  was  appointed  to  the  Warren  Circuit,  having 
for  my  colleague  Bryan  Gause.  Warren  Circuit  then 
embraced  Warren  County  and  Columbia,  and  parts 
of  Richmond  and  Jefferson,  and  one  or  two  appoint- 
ments in  Burke." 

The  boundaries  marked  out  in  this  article  show  that 
the  circuit  was  a  very  large  one,  and  that  in  it  were 
many  of  the  best  class  of  Georgia  people.  Warren, 
Burke,  Jefferson,  and  Richmond  were  all  represented. 
Among  those  whom  he  mentions  was  one  with  whom 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


6i 


afterward  he  held  very  tender  relations — Mary  Bost- 
wick,  afterward  wife  of  Stephen  Olin  and  sister  of  Mil- 
dred Bostwick,  the  saintly  wife  of  Asaph  Waterman. 
She  was  a  bright  and  beautiful  girl  ;  her  father  was 
then  an  officer  in  the  State  Government ;  the  family 
were  prominent  and  wealthy.  In  a  prayer-meeting 
held  by  the  young  preacher,  the  gentle  maiden  became 
deeply  convicted,  then  she  was  swept  back  by  the  tide 
•of  gaiety  and  apparently  lost  her  convictions.  At  a 
camp-meeting  held  over  ten  years  afterward  she  was 
converted,  and  when  Stephen  Olin  came  with  his  won- 
derful eloquence  and  swept  through  Georgia,  Mary 
Bostwick  gave  him  her  all. 

Bryan  Gause,  a  weak  man,  who  sank  into  obscurity, 
was  Andrew's  colleague.  During  the  year  the  young 
preacher's  health  gave  way ;  he  was  now  troubled 
with  the  burdens  of  his  poor  old  father,  and  sick  him- 
self, he  had  opened  to  him  an  opportunity  to  study 
medicine  and  practise  with  his  cousin,  Dr.  Moses  An- 
drew. He  was  sorely  tempted  to  yield,  but  decided 
to  go  on  with  his  work. 

He  had  now  travelled  three  years,  and  his  work  had 
extended  from  the  middle  of  North  Carohna  to  the 
heart  of  Georgia.  He  was  just  twenty-one.  His 
own  estimate  of  his  abilities  was  always  below  their 
real  value,  and  he  was,  we  may  be  sure,  from  the  suc- 
cess which  attended  him,  no  ordinary  preacher  even 
then.  Governor  Schley  was  a  young  man  living  in 
Richmond  County,  and  he  related  to  Mr.  William  C. 
Derry  an  incident  of  which  the  Bishop  makes  no  men- 
tion. He  said  one  Sunday  some  young  men  of  wealth 
and  family  came  by  and  asked  him  to  ride  with  them 
to  a  Methodist  meeting.    He  did  so,  and  a  young  man 


62 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


rose  to  preach.  The  wicked  wretches  who  were  with 
him  were  bent  on  mischief,  and  one  of  them  threw 
some  sharp-pointed  missile  at  the  preacher  and  struck 
him  in  the  face.  The  blood  followed  the  wound,  and 
Andrew,  pausing,  called  upon  the  congregation  to  join 
him  in  prayer  for  his  persecutors — they  did  so.  The 
last  one  of  those  infamous  scoundrels,  said  the  gov- 
ernor, is  gone  to  a  dishonored  grave,  and  the  young 
preacher  is  your  great  and  venerable  Bishop. 

He  did  a  year  of  hard  and  useful  work,  and  at  its 
end  reported  himself  at  the  Conference  for  his  first 
appointment. 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


63 


CHAPTER  III. 


ON   A  STATION. 


1816-1823. 


Charleston.— Appearance  and  Preaching. —  Colleagues. —  Ann  Amelia 
Macfarlane. — Her  Parentage. — Marries  Her. — Conference,  1816. — 
Wilmington,  N.  C. ,  1817. — Stormy  Voyage. — Kind  Welcome. — Par- 
sonage.— Church. — First  Child. — Extracts  from  Journal.  —Infidel  Con- 
verted.— Revivals. — Returned,  1818. — Happy  Year. — Letters  to  his 
Father. — Columbia,  S.  C,  1819. — William  Capers. — Methodism  in 
the  City. — Parsonage. — Some  Trials. — Revival. — Augusta,  1820-21. — 
Augusta  Methodism. — New  Parsonage. — Asaph  Waterman, — Rem- 
iniscences of  General  Conference. — James  Russell. — Savannah, 
1822-23. — Affliction. — Loses  his  Babe. — Narrow  Escape  from  Drown- 
ing.— Kindness  of  the  People. — Bishop  Roberts. — The  Singing  Sis- 
ter.— Lewis  Myers. — Conference. — Sent  to  Charleston  District. 


E  had  now  been  three  years  a  preacher,  but  he 


A  1  had  preached,  or  made  an  effort  to  do  so, 
during  those  three  years  not  less  than  seven  hundred 
sermons.  He  was  always  fluent  with  tongue  and  pen  ; 
was  dignified,  sedate,  prudent,  and  very  deeply  in 
earnest.  Charleston,  to  which  he  was  now  sent,  was 
a  most  important  station;  against  immense  odds  and 
facing  the  fiercest  opposition,  Methodism  had  grown 
steadily  in  it.  The  bulk  of  the  membership  were  col- 
ored people,  though  there  was  quite  a  number  of 
whites.  The  Church  demanded  much  work,  and  was 
able  to  pay  but  little  for  it.  Three  preachers  were 
sent,  and  James  O.  Andrew  was  the  youngest  of  the 
three.    He  was  then  not  quite  twenty-two.    He  was 


64 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


quite  stout,  rather  stern  in  look,  rather  awkward  in 
manner.  His  eye  was  a  bright  hazel  ;  his  hair  thick 
and  curly.  He  dressed,  as  all  the  preachers  did  in 
those  days,  in  Methodist  uniforni.  His  manners  were 
brusque  and  his  speech  was  blunt.  One  thing  was 
evident  to  all — he  had  a  head  of  his  own.  He  was 
exceedingly  agreeable  to  those  he  felt  at  home  with, 
full  of  sympathy  and  tenderness.  Painfully  timid, 
and  while  not  unduly  so,  sufficiently  sensitive. 

No  one  has  said  how  he  preached,  and  yet  it  re- 
quires no  effort  of  the  imagination  to  arrive  at  a  cor- 
rect idea  of  both  the  matter  and  style  of  his  pulpit 
work.  To  call  sinners  to  repentance,  to  meet  their 
objections,  to  overcome  their  repugnance  to  religion, 
to  awaken,  to  warn,  to  comfort,  was  the  one  work 
then.  His  time  for  study  had  been  very  limited, 
and  he  had  probably  done  very  little  in  these  three 
years  in  the  way  of  securing  literary  culture,  but 
he  had  been  studying  men,  the  Bible,  and  his  own 
heart ;  had  been  learning  the  art  of  moving  men.  His 
congregations  were  neither  learned  nor  critical ;  they 
were  simple-hearted  people,  who  felt  for  the  young 
preacher,  and  prayed  for  him,  and  looked  for  the  best 
from  him.  They  were  far  from  being  what  is  common 
now — critical  without  being  learned,  and  exacting 
imperatively  a  style  of  preaching  that  neither  good 
culture  nor  true  piety  will  allow.  He  had,  of  course, 
little  time  for  pulpit  preparation.  With  such  a  pas- 
toral charge,  and  his  colleague  sick,  and  three  ser- 
vices every  Sunday,  he  had  no  time  for  writing 
elaborate  sermons.  So  much  he  does  not  tell.  We 
will  see  now  what  he  does. 

The  Conference  of  1815  was  to  meet  in  Charleston, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


65 


and  the  young  preacher,  who  was  now  expected  to 
attend,  began  his  journey.    He  says  : 

"On  our  route  to  Charleston  we  went  through 
Savannah,  where  I  heard  Bishop  McKendree  preach. 
I  still  have  a  pretty  distinct  recollection  of  the  text 
and  manner  of  the  preacher.  It  was  the  first  time  I 
had  visited  a  seaport,  and  of  course  everything  was 
novel  and  interesting  to  me.  I  dare  say  all  could  see 
I  was  a  raw  backwoodsman. 

"  We  reached  Charleston  in  time  for  Conference,  and 
I  found  a  hearty  welcome  and  a  pleasant  home  with 
old  Brother  Peter  Mood,  who  kept  a  silversmith  shop 
somewhere  on  King  Street.  Mine  host  was  an  active, 
warm-hearted,  impulsive  old  Dutchman,  and  his  wife 
an  affectionate,  good  woman,  one  of  the  precious  ones 
of  earth.  The  old  people  have  long  since  passed  from 
the  labors  of  earth,  but  the  children  still  live,  and  the 
savor  of  that  mother's  piety  is  still  found  among  them. 
Her  eldest  son  has  long  been  an  exemplary  local 
preacher;  and  four  of  the  grandsons  are  traveling 
preachers  in  the  South  CaroHna  Conference.^  The 
Conference  held  its  sessions  in  the  old  parsonage 
house  near  Bethel  church.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
opening  prayer  which  was  offered  by  old  Brother 
G. ,  a  very  godly  man,  and  whose  eccentricities  of  char- 
acter will  never  be  forgotten  by  the  preachers  of  that 
day.  He  began  by  giving  the  Lord  a  full  history  of 
the  decision  of  the  previous  Conference  to  hold  its 
present  session  in  Charleston,  with  all  the  conditions 
on  which  our  assembly  then  depended  ;  gravely  in- 
formed his  Maker  that  at  our  last  session  our  country 


'1853.   One  of  them,  Dr.  F.  A.  Mood,  is  now  (1882)  in  Texas. 


66  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

was  at  war  with  England,  and  that  British  troops  were 
hovering  around  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  so  that  we 
didn't  know  but  that  the  enemy  might  have  it  in  pos- 
session so  that  we  should  be  unable  to  come  there,  in 
which  event  we  had  decided  to  go  to  another  place, 
but  that  during  the  year  our  people  had  thrown  up 
intrenchments  and  stationed  troops  for  defence ; 
finally  that  we  had  sent  commissioners  to  meet  those 
of  Britain,  and  the  result  was  that  peace  had  been 
made,  the  British  ships  had  left  the  coast,  and  we  had 
come  to  Charleston.  This  singular  introduction  over, 
he  applied  himself  to  the  proper  work  of  prayer  in 
such  wise  as  could  only  be  done  by  one  who  was  often 
at  the  throne  of  grace  and  felt  that  he  was  welcomed 
there. 

"  Of  the  doings  of  the  Conference  I  recollect  but 
little  ;  the  session  was  not  a  long  one,  for  in  those  days 
our  business  was  not  complicated.  The  examination 
of  character,  the  admissions,  elections,  the  return  of 
members,  the  steward's  report,  and  the  fixing  the 
place  of  the  next  Conference  was  about  all  we  had 
to  do. 

"  There  was  nevertheless  one  association  which 
stands  connected  with  all  my  earliest  recollections 
of  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  i.e.,  the  Fund  of 
Special  Relief.  In  due  time  that  was  always  forth- 
coming— our  reverend  and  honored  friend,  the  Rev. 
Lewis  Myers,  was  always  in  his  place  with  that  same 
old  green  bag.  The  report  of  the  state  of  the  funds 
was  read,  the  proceeds  distributed  among  the  most 
needy,  and  then  our  old  friend  was  sure  to  call  for  a 
collection  in  order  that  the  institution  might  not  be 
much  poorer  for  what  they  had  just  distributed  to  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


67 


Lord's  poor.  Even  now  that  annually  recurring  scene 
is  vividly  before  me,  as  the  good  old  man  went  over 
the  Conference  room  poking  his  hat  to  us  all,  making 
his  collecting  speech  as  he  went  on,  then  announcing 
the  result  of  his  appeal  with  a  return  of  thanks  in  his 
own  simple  manner.  I  found  the  Fund  of  Special 
Relief  a  well-established  inmate  of  the  family  when  I 
entered  the  Conference.  I  know  not  when  or  by 
whom  it  was  first  originated,'  but  Lewis  Myers 
seemed,  by  common  consent,  the  guardian  of  i^ts 
interests.  It  was  a  quiet,  noiseless  affair,  but  its 
humble  efforts  have  eased  many  an  aching  heart  and 
wiped  away  many  a  tear.  It  has  now  divided  its 
bands  and  pursues  its  quiet  course  of  benevolence  in 
South  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Florida.  Long  may  it 
live  with  increasing  means  and  disposition  to  do  good 
and  communicate. 

But  the  closing  of  the  Conference  came  and  I  was 
appointed  to  Charleston  with  two  colleagues,  both  my 
seniors.  I  find,  by  reference  to  the  old  minutes,  that 
Thomas  Stanley  was  put  down  as  preacher  in  charge 
of  Charleston.  It  was  my  impression,  however,  that 
Anthony  Senter  was  in  charge  during  the  earlier  part 
of  the  year,  and  Stanley  in  Columbia,  but  the  Bishop, 
some  months  subsequently,  found  it  necessary  to 
make  a  change  in  these  arrangements.  Senter  was 
removed  and  Stanley  sent  to  Charleston  in  his  place. 

"  With  Brother  Stanley  I  lived  in  great  union,  and  a 
friendship  was  formed  which  continued  till  his  death. 
Thomas  W.  Stanley  was  an  estimable  man  in  every  re- 
spect, a  man  of  great  amiability,  a  sound,  clear-headed 


*  It  was  instituted  at  Bishop  Asbury's  instance,  in  Sparta,  in  1805. — G.  G.  S. 


68 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


preacher,  a  man  of  decided  piety,  thoroughly  Method- 
istical  yet  free  from  bigotry.  At  the  close  of  this 
year  he  married  and  after  a  while  located.  The  re- 
mainder of  his  life  he  was  engaged  in  teaching,  for 
which  both  he  and  his  excellent  wife  were  admirably 
qualified.  Wherever  he  lived  he  labored  as  a  minister 
of  Jesus  with  great  acceptability  and  usefulness.  He 
removed  from  Athens,  where  he  had  lived  many 
years,  to  La  Grange,  and  subsequently  died  there. 

I  was  awkward  enough  for  a  city  preacher,  but  the 
people  received  me  kindly  and  God  blessed  me  among 
them.  During  the  early  part  of  the  year  my  col- 
league. Griffin  Christopher,  who  had  charge  of  the 
church  for  some  time,  felt  himself  in  such  precarious 
health  that  most  of  the  pastoral  work  and  a  great 
portion  of  the  preaching  devolved  on  me.  I  worked 
hard  but  God  sustained  me,  and  blessed  my  labors 
with  some  measure  of  success.  We  used  to  preach  at 
Bethel  and  Cumberland,  and  this  year  we  took  charge 
of  Trinity,  which  was  now  transferred  to  us  by  the  re- 
maining portion  of  Mr.  Hammil's  society. 

And  now,  kind  reader,  a  slight  peep  at  the  parson- 
age and  its  fixments,  as  I  remember  them  in  that  day. 
That  old  odd-shaped  house,  defying  all  sorts  of  archi- 
tectural style,  was  a  house  of  shreds  and  patches  and 
stood  almost  touching  Bethel  church.  Below  stairs 
was  the  dining-room,  stuck  up  in  one  corner;  at  the 
other  you  went  out  into  the  yard,  from  a  little  cuddy 
in  which  was  the  water-pail,  but  the  grand  room  of 
the  lower  story  was  the  Conference  room  ;  in  this  was 
transacted  all  the  business  of  the  station.  Here  you 
met  every  week  either  stewards  or  leaders,  white  or 
black,  and  here  the  preacher  had  to  hear  all  cases  of 


y antes  Osgood  Andrew. 


69 


complaint  and  trial,  especially  among  the  blacks.  To 
this  room  also  came,  at  stated  intervals,  all  who  wished 
to  join  on  trial.  For  the  purpose  of  attending  to  all 
other  matters,  one  day  in  the  week  was  set  apart,  and 
the  preachers  had  to  be  there  all  day. 

•*  Imagine  a  room,  dear  reader,  raised  only  a  few 
inches  from  the  ground  with  high  fences  on  all  sides, 
crowded  just  as  full  as  it  could  hold  on  a  night  in  July 
or  August,  and  the  preachers  sitting  there  till  bell- 
ringing,'  and  tell  me,  didn't  he  have  a  sweet  time  of 
it?  Then  when  he  emerged  from  this  bath-house  and 
sought  to  cool  himself  in  the  upper  story,  imagine  him, 
half  melting,  seeking  to  refresh  himself  on  his  pillow. 
He  enters  a  room  some  twelve  feet  square,  with  one  or 
two  windows ;  after  carefully  adjusting  his  mosquito 
net  and  seizing  a  favorable  moment  for  rushing  into 
bed,  and  carefully  stopping  every  crevice  through 
which  the  serenaders  might  possibly  find  access  to 
him,  he  stretches  himself  to  get  cool  and  go  to  sleep. 
What  think  you  of  his  prospects  ?  The  parsonage  yard, 
if  it  had  any,  was  an  encroachment  on  the  old  grave 
yard.  If  you  walked  out  tombstones  were  under  your 
feet,  or  all  around  you  ;  if  you  seated  yourself  at  your 
window,  and  looked  out  to  enjoy  the  beauties  of  a  moon- 
light prospect,  tombstones  everywhere  arrested  your 
gaze,  so  that  ours  might  properly  have  been  called  the 
family  among  the  tombs.  There  was  one  usage  at 
the  parsonage  which  I  think  has  gone  out  of  fashion. 
We  had  morning  prayer  in  the  Conference  room.  The 

'  In  those  days  the  bell  of  the  city  rang  at  a  certain  hour,  generally 
nine  o'clock,  and  all  negroes  were  required  to  be  at  home,  unless  they 
had  a  pass  from  their  employers.  The  official  board  were  most  of  them 
persons  of  color,  at  least  the  class-leaders  were. 


70 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


gate  was  opened  at  an  early  hour,  and  from  that  time 
until  the  hour  of  prayer  arrived  the  blacks  might  be 
seen  urging  their  way  to  the  parsonage  to  unite  in  the 
morning  sacrifice. 

They  prized  this  privilege  highly;  and  the  aged 
and  infirm  often  walked  a  considerable  distance  to  be 
present.  But  this  good  old  usage  required  early 
rising  on  the  part  of  the  preachers,  and  it  has,  I  be- 
lieve, passed  away.  It  would  be  improper  to  close 
this  notice  without  reference  to  one  whose  name  and 
history  stand  closely  associated  with  the  old  Bethel 
parsonage.  Who  that  visited  the  parsonage  in  those 
days  can  fail  to  remember  old  Sister  Silena  Smith,  the 
housekeeper  ?  I  know  not  when  she  first  took  charge, 
but  it  was  long  before  I  went  there.  She  loved  to 
wait  on  the  preachers,  and  especially  loved  to  talk  of 
the  kindly  notice  taken  of  her  by  Bishops  Asbury  and 
McKendree.  I  think  she  had  received  a  letter  or  two 
from  the  former.  Even  now  it  seems  to  me  I  can  see 
the  old  lady  bustling  about  the  house  and  kitchen  and 
hear  her  loud,  clear  voice  as  she  sang  hymns  of  praise 
to  God.  The  market  was  the  place  of  attraction  for 
her  after  breakfast;  thither  she  repaired  to  lay  in 
supplies  for  the  day,  as  well  as  to  gather  the  current 
gossip  of  the  city,  especially  in  reference  to  church 
matters.  My  old  friend  thought  the  market  the  great- 
est place  imaginable  to  talk  secrets  ;  there  was  such  a 
crowd,  nobody  took  any  notice  of  you.  As  to  the  cor- 
rectness of  this  theory  I  have  nothing  to  say  ;  but  my 
sister  Silena  certainly  obtained  a  good  deal  of  infor- 
mation in  her  daily  tramps  to  the  market,  and  the  in- 
terest and  pleasure  she  seemed  to  derive  from  them 
really  made  me  sorry  when  bad  weather  (and  it  must 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


71 


have  been  bad)  interfered  with  her  daily  excursions. 
She  was  a  kind-hearted,  devoted  woman,  who  loved 
God  and  the  church  with  an  undying  affection.  She 
loved  to  wait  on  the  preachers,  some  of  whom,  I  fear, 
gave  her  pain  very  unnecessarily.  She  spent  a  good 
deal  of  her  time  in  visiting  the  sick  and  poor,  and  was 
in  several  ways  a  very  useful  woman.  She  ultimately 
left  the  parsonage  and  died  at  the  house  of  one  of  her 
old  friends.  Peace  to  her  memory  !  Nor  may  I  be 
unjust  to  one  who  was  perhaps  not  the  least  remark- 
able character  about  the  premises  :  this  was  old  Marrh 
Phillis,  the  cook.  She  was  a  great  Methodist — an 
honest,  kind  soul,  loved  the  preachers  mightily  and 
loved  to  talk  about  religion  in  her  way;  but  she 
had  a  good  deal  of  African  pepper  in  her  character, 
and  said  and  did  pretty  much  as  she  pleased,  without 
any  fear  of  housekeeper  or  preacher." 

The  Presiding  Elder  for  this  year  was  Alexander 
Talley,  who  died  afterward  in  the  West  while  mission- 
ary to  the  Choctaw  Indians.  In  May,  James  O.  An- 
drew, just  twenty- three  years  old,  not  an  Elder,  the 
junior  preacher  on  a  station,  did  an  act  of  unparalleled 
audacity  for  those  times — he  married.  Of  course, 
Brother  Talley  was  distressed  ;  nothing  is  more  try- 
ing to  the  average  Presiding  Elder  than  for  one  of  his 
junior  preachers  to  marry  before  he  thinks  he  ought 
to  do  so.  And,  of  course.  Brother  Christopher,  who 
was  sick,  and  perhaps  a  little  fretful  anyhow,  gave  the 
young  preacher  some  trouble.  Though  this  tried  him, 
as  he  says  in  his  journal,  he  was  compensated  well,  for 
the  gentle  Amelia  was  his  wedded  wife,  and  he  had 
the  answer  of  a  good  conscience  toward  God.  He 
says  in  his  old  journal,  the  only  one  he  seems  to  have 


72 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


kept,  In  May  I  exchanged  a  single  for  a  married 
life — a  life  which  I  had  always  thought  desirable,  the 
person  of  my  choice  was  Miss  A.  A.  MacFarlane,  a 
young  lady  to  whom  I  had  felt  attached  from  our  first 
acquaintance.  We  were  united  on  the  first  day  of 
May,  and  I  trust  we  shall  never  repent  our  union. 

She  has  been  for  some  years  pious.  She  is  about 
my  equal  in  fortune — both  of  us  being  poor;  we  have 
therefore  no  interested  motives  in  our  marriage.  I 
now  met  with  some  trials  from  our  Presiding  Elder 
Brother  T.  and  my  colleague  Brother  C,  which  dis- 
tressed my  mind  considerably,  but  the  Lord  delivered 
me  out  of  it  all." 

It  did  look  daring,  that  marriage,  but  not  often  has 
God  directed  an  event  more  clearly.  From  the  day 
that  Amelia  MacFarlane  took  the  unpolished,  penniless, 
and  comparatively  unlearned  young  preacher  by  the 
hand,  there  was  a  rapid  advance  which  never  knew  a 
halt. 

Alexander  MacFarlane,  her  father,  had  been  a  sea 
captain  and  then  a  merchant.  He  became  a  Method- 
ist before  James  O.  Andrew  was  born,  and  was  early 
a  local  preacher.  He  was  a  man  of  very  fine  educa- 
tion for  those  times.  He  married  a  lady  of  German 
origin.  She  was  truly  an  extraordinary  woman.  Her 
good  sense,  her  industry,  her  piety,  made  her  a  true 
helpmeet.  By  the  kindness  of  his  grandson,  Dr. 
Francis  A.  Mood,  President  of  the  Southwestern  Uni- 
versity, I  have  been  permitted  to  read  a  letter  from 
this  excellent  man  to  his  father,  written  in  defence  of 
his  having  become  a  Methodist.  It  is  most  exquisitely 
written,  in  a  bold  and  graceful  hand,  and  the  senti- 
ment is  of  the  most  exalted  character.    The  letter 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


n 


shows  him  to  be  a  man  of  cultivation  and  of  very  deep 
piety. 

He  died  after  his  wife  had  six  children,  and  she  was 
left  alone  and  in  poverty.  She  was,  however,  a 
woman  of  great  energy,  and  having  fine  skill  with  her 
needle,  she  supported  them  well  and  educated  them 
all.  There  were  six  of  them,  and  of  the  four  daughters 
one  married  James  O.  Andrew,  one  John  Mood,  one 
T.  Mason,  and  one  Thomas  L.  Wynn,  all  Methodist 
preachers.  The  son,  James  MacFarlane,  became  a 
physician  of  some  distinction  in  New  Orleans.  Of 
the  grandchildren  of  this  remarkable  pair,  there  are  at 
present  in  the  Methodist  ministry.  Dr.  F.  A.  Mood, 
of  Texas  ;  Henry  M.  W.  Wynn  and  John  Mood,  of 
South  Carolina  Conference ;  Alexander  M.  Wynn,  of 
the  South  Georgia,  and  James  O.  Andrew,  of  the  Ala- 
bama Conference  ;  and  Mrs.  Octavia  Andrew  Rush, 
another  grandchild,  'is  wife  of  a  Methodist  preacher. 
Two  sons  of  Rev.  Dr.  Lovett,  who  married  the 
granddaughter,  Elizabeth  Andrew,  are  also  in  the 
same  work. 

Amelia  MacFarlane  was  one  year  the  junior  of  her 
husband.  She  was,  in  1816,  just  twenty-one  years  old 
and  he  was  not  quite  twenty-two.  It  was  evidently 
not  a  long  courtship.  He  came  in  January,  he  married 
in  May. 

There  was,  however,  no  risk  in  this  haste.  He 
knew  who  she  was  and  she  knew  him.  They  had  not 
known  each  other  long,  but  they  were  not  strangers. 

She  married  a  Methodist  preacher — she  intended 
never  to  be  in  his  way,  but  always  to  help  him  on- 
ward. She  had  acted  with  her  eyes  fully  open.  She 
was  aware  of  the  poverty  and  trial  which  this  life  in- 
4 


74 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


volved.  She  loved  the  Georgia  boy  and  she  knew 
his  love  to  her.  She  was  gentle,  educated,  accustomed 
to  the  best  society,  and  suited  to  Ije,  as  she  was,  his 
guide  and  support.  Many  a  blunder  she  saved  him 
from  ;  many  an  exertion  she  impelled  him  to  make  ; 
his  letters  to  her,  to  the  very  last  one,  have  all  the 
warm  gushing  of  his  boyish  love. 

He  was  married  in  May,  and  no  doubt  Brother  T. 
and  Brother  C.  predicted  he  would  locate  in  De- 
cember ;  and  Brother  Myers,  when  he  heard  the  news, 
made  ready  his  scourge  for  the  Conference  session, 
when  he  would  forget  all  else  but  his  duty  to  the 
church  and  give  that  young  man  a  lesson.  Had  not 
Billy  Capers  done  the  same  thing — married  in  his  fourth 
year  and  located  ? — and  now  James  Andrew  was  going 
the  same  way !  Oh,  the  times,  the  time%!  The  young 
brederen,  the  young  brederen  !  The  temptation  to 
locate  was  strong.  The  circumstances  of  his  father's 
family,  the  almost  impossibility  of  living  in  the  work 
as  a  married  man,  the  opposition  of  almost  all  the 
preachers,  and,  for  all  that,  the  opposition  of  the  church 
to  the  early  marriages  of  the  preachers,  united  to  urge 
his  retirement ;  but  there  were  some  things  which 
kept  him  in  the  field.  His  sense  of  duty  was  the 
main  one,  and  then  the  wish  of  his  parents  and  the 
gentle  Amelia's  will.  She  had  married  a  traveling 
preacher  :  such  he  was,  and  such,  if  she  could  have  her 
say,  he  should  be — and  such  he  was  to  the  end. 

Marriage  has  made  some,  and,  alas  !  has  unmade  not 
a  few  preachers,  and  the  example  of  young  Andrew  is 
to  be  followed  when  there  is  James  O.  Andrew  of  the 
first  part,  and  Amelia  MacFarlane  of  the  second  part. 
Sure  enough,  Brother  Myer?  used  the  scourge,  as  he 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


75 


felt  in  duty  bound  to  do,  but  he  lived  long  enough  to 
know  that  the  heart  of  the  young  Georgian  led  more 
wisely  than  his  own  strong  head.  The  year  ended, 
but  before  it  did  so  the  young  preacher,  with  his  fair 
bride,  went  to  Elbert  to  visit  the  dear  old  people.  It 
was  a  sad  visit.  He  says  :  "  I  felt  considerably  distressed 
at  seeing  their  situation — reduced  to  struggle  with  the 
complicated  evils  of  poverty  and  old  age.  A  view  of 
these  things  produced  a  variety  of  emotions  in  my 
mind,  and  location  and  the  study  of  medicine  again 
presented  themselves  to  my  view.  In  fact  I  had  well 
nigh  made  a  firm  resolve  to  locate,  but  as  Conference 
drew  near  I  could  not  reconcile  it  to  my  own  feel- 
ings, neither  would  my  wife  give  her  consent,  she 
being  anxious  that  I  should  continue  in  the  work ;  so 
in  December  I  again  went  to  Conference  in  company 
with  dear  Brother  Stanley,  who  had  labored  part  of  the 
year  in  Charleston. 

The  Conference  was  held  this  year  [1816]  at  Colum- 
bia, S.  C.  Bishop  McKendree  presided,  by  whom  I 
was  ordained  Elder.  I  had  some  little  dread  as  to 
how  I  should  get  through  the  Conference ;  not  that 
I  had  neglected  my  work,  or  been  guilty  of  anything 
very  bad,  but  I  had  married  during  the  previous  year, 
and  in  the  older  times  the  preacher  who  married  in 
the  South  CaroHna  Conference  had  to  undergo  a 
pretty  thorough  catechizing.  There  were  a  few  of 
the  old  fathers  who  set  themselves  very  sedulously  to 
guard  the  rights  and  authority  of  the  discipline  in  that 
respect.  The  little  book  says  '  take  no  steps  toward 
marriage  without  consulting  the  most  serious  of  your 
brethren  ; '  and  this  was  a  pregnant  text  on  which  the 
venerable  chiefs  of  bachelorism  never  failed  to  preach 


76 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  most  solemn  and  impressive  sermons  to  such  young 
men  as  ventured  to  desert  the  ranks  of  ceUbacy.  Fore- 
most among  those  who  seemed  to  regard  themselves 
as  specially  called  to  the  defence  of  this  time-honored 
law  was  our  excellent  friend,  the  Rev.  Lewis  Myers. 
True  as  steel,  whenever  a  young  man's  name  was 
called  and  it  was  announced  that  he  had  married  dur- 
ing the  year,  Brother  Myers  was  at  his  post,  and  it 
had  to  be  explained  whether  he  had  acted  prudently 
in  his  marriage  ;  and  this  was  a  very  important  ques- 
tion. It  meant  not  only  whether  the  lady  was  suitable, 
but  especially  whether  the  brother  had  sought  advice 
from  the  most  serious  of  his  brethren  ;  by  which  the 
Conference  understood  the  Presiding  Elder,  or  some 
traveling  preacher.  And  if  it  was  found  that  he  had 
been  negligent  in  this  particular,  the  honor  of  the  Con- 
ference and  the  dignity  and  authority  of  the  discipline 
seemed  to  require  that  there  should  be  some  official 
expression  of  disapprobation.  Now  the  above  clause 
in  the  discipHne  regarded  as  advice  is  eminently  judi- 
cious, and  a  proper  attention  to  it  might  prevent  many 
unsuitable  and  unhappy  marriages  among  the  preach- 
ers. But  the  attempt  to  enforce  it  as  positive  law 
could  be  productive  of  no  good,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
lead  to  evil.  The  preachers  would  marry,"  and  that 
pretty  much  according  to  their  own  liking.  Gradu- 
ally the  impracticability  of  enforcing  the  rule  led  to  its 
practical  abandonment.  I  had,  of  course,  to  pass  the 
ordeal ;  but  I  got  through  safely." 

From  this  Conference  he  wrote  his  father  by  Whit- 
man Hill,  who  was  going  to  his  family  home  in 
Georgia  : 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


77 


*'  Columbia,  December  30,  1816. 

My  Honored  Father  : 

"  With  unfeigned  thanksgiving  to  that  God  who  has 
preserved  my  life  and  healtii  so  far,  do  I  now  take  up 
my  pen  to  address  the  most  affectionate  of  parents. 
When  I  retract  my  past  Hfe  I  discover  the  astonishing 
displays  of  divine  mercy  and  goodness.  God  has  blessed 
me  abundantly  more  than  I  have  deserved.  While 
under  your  parental  care  I  received  those  instructions 
and  impressions  which  have  laid  the  foundation  of  my 
future  happiness,  I  trust.  When  I  think  that  God  at 
an  early  age  called  me  into  his  church,  and  gave  me  a 
name  among  his  people,  I  can  never  be  sufficiently 
grateful  for  his  kindness  ;  but  oh,  when  I  think  how 
unfaithful  I  have  been  since,  and,  notwithstanding  all, 
he  has  been  pleased  to  bear  with  me  and  has  given 
me  a  name  among  his  ministers  and  has  been  pleased 
to  succeed  my  feeble  exertions  by  the  divine  energy 
of  his  grace,  I  trust,  if  ever  I  get  to  heaven,  I  shall 
see  some  there  who  have  been  converted  to  God 
through  my  instrumentality.  May  I  get  there  bring- 
ing many  sheaves  with  me. 

"  I  have  enjoyed,  through  God's  mercy,  a  moderate 
share  of  health,  only  I  have  at  present  a  bad  cold. 
About  a  fortnight  since  I  left  my  Amelia  in  Charles- 
ton, in  good  health,  unwilling  for  me  to  be  anything 
but  a  traveling  preacher.  She  seems  heartily  to  unite 
with  me  in  the  work  of  God,  and  her  zeal  and  diligence 
in  religious  matters  sometimes  makes  me  ashamed.  I 
desire  to  be  thankful  to  God  for  giving  me  such  a 
companion.  One  fortnight's  absence  makes  me  pen- 
sive, and  I  anticipate,  with  inexpressible  pleasure,  our 
meeting  again  four  or  five  days  hence. 


78 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


I  communicated  to  you  my  intention  of  con- 
tinuing to  travel.  I  have  had  some  conflicts  with  the 
enemy  on  this  score,  but  I  can  say,  Lord,  thy  will  be 
done.  God  will  provide.  When  I  view  the  declining 
state  of  the  Church — so  many  of  our  preachers  retiring 
from  the  field  of  labor  and  sitting  peaceably  around 
their  firesides  while  souls  are  perishing  for  lack  of 
knowledge,  gladly  would  I  spend  all  and  be  spent  in 
this  glorious  work  could  I  be  the  means  of  saving  some 
of  them.  Oh,  my  father,  pray  for  me  !  help,  oh  help  me 
by  your  praying  in  this  great  work.  I  recollect  that 
when  I  parted  with  my  dear  mother  she  said  to  me, 
'Do  your  Master's  work.'  Never  shall  I  forget  her 
charge  :  oh  may  I  keep  it.  The  present  is  an  eventful 
evening.  To-morrow  our  Conference  rises,  and  we 
are  waiting  with  anxiety  to  know  our  destination  ;  so 
I  will  conclude  my  letter  to-morrow  

I  now  resume  my  pen  to  conclude  my  letter.  I 
have  just  returned  from  the  Conference  room.  The 
stations  have  been  read  out,  and  I  am  appointed  to  la- 
bor the  ensuing  year  in  Wilmington,  N.  C.  I  expect  to 
start  to-morrow  morning  for  Charleston,  whence  I  shall 
sail  for  Wilmington.  I  feel  the  importance  of  my  sta- 
tion— oh  that  God  may  help  me  to  discharge  my  duty 
faithfully.    Write  me  as  soon  as  possible. 

Yours  affectionately, 

''James  O.  Andrew." 

Returning  to  Charleston  he  made  ready,  and,  with 
his  gentle  wife,  took  the  good  schooner  Pennsylvania, 
Captain  Moore,  for  his  place  of  appointment.  '*  For 
some  time,"  he  says,  we  had  a  favorable  prospect 
of  reaching  Wilmington  in  two  days,  but  from  a  variety 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


79 


of  circumstances  we  were  eight  days  on  our  voyage, 
during  part  of  which  time  I  was  very  sick.  Upon 
our  arrival  I  found  that  the  people  had  given  me 
up  for  lost,  in  consequence  of  several  vessels  having 
been  wrecked ;  but  our  God  preserved  us.  I  shall 
never  forget  his  goodness  to  me  and  mine.  I  find  my 
brethren  here,  as  usual,  friendly,  and  many  of  them 
are  lively  members  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  For 
some  time  after  our  debarkation  my  wife  was  afflicted 
with  a  most  distressing  cough,  but  it  hath  pleased  the 
Almighty  at  length  to  remove  it." 
The    Reminiscences  "  say  : 

"I  found  the  church  in  fine  condition,  the  station 
having  been  filled  the  two  preceding  years  by  those 
excellent  men,  T.  W.  Stanley  and  S.  K.  Hodges. 
They  had  both  been  eminently  successful.  God  had 
given  them  many  souls  to  their  labors  ;  indeed,  there 
had  been  a  gradual  and  steady  revival  going  on  in  the 
church  for  two  years  previous  to  my  going  there,  and 
it  continued  pretty  steadily  during  the  two  years  of 
my  stay  among  them.  We  had  at  no  time  an  over- 
whelming, sweeping  revival,  but  almost  every  week 
some  were  converted  to  God.  Our  class-meetings 
were  well  attended  and  lively ;  our  love-feasts  were 
always  times  of  refreshing ;  prayer-meetings  were 
well  attended,  and  God  was  present  in  his  Spirit's 
power.  Our  congregations  were  large,  respectful,  and 
serious,  and  there  was  scarcely  a  week  in  which  there 
were  not  some  seeking,  inquiring  souls  among  us. 
I  think,  take  it  altogether,  it  was  the  best  revival  I 
have  ever  witnessed  in  any  of  the  churches  of  which  I 
have  had  the  pastoral  charge.  Now,  I  attribute  this 
pleasant  state  of  things,  in  a  great  measure,  to  the 


8o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


fact  that  the  pastor  had  so  many  efficient  helpers 
among  the  laity,  especially  among  the  ladies.  We 
had  a  number  of  female  members  who  made  religion 
their  principal  theme,  because  they  enjoyed  it  in-  its 
spirituality  and  power.  Hence  they  were  not 
ashamed  to  preach  Christ  in  their  social  intercourse, 
nor  were  they  alarmed  at  all  when  called  upon  to 
pray  in  public.  O,  how  many  happy  hours  have  I  en- 
joyed in  the  ladies'  prayer-meeting,  which  used  to  be 
held,  I  think,  every  Friday  morning  in  the  church. 
Sweet  is  the  memory  of  those  days — but  they  are 
gone  !  and  most  of  those  excellent  ones  who  used  to 
meet  on  those  occasions  are  gone  to  their  better 
home  above.    May  I  meet  them  there  at  last  ! 

As  to  Wilmington — its  situation,  trade,  and  com- 
mercial prospects — it  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  its 
former  condition  can  scarcely  be  understood  by  those 
who  look  at  it  in  these  railway  days.  The  city  has 
greatly  enlarged  since  my  first  acquaintance  with  it : 
yet  even  then  a  good  deal  of  business  was  done  and 
many  fortunes  were  realized.  The  old  parsonage  was 
located  outside  of  the  settled  parts  of  the  town,  except 
that  the  hill  on  which  it  stood  was  pretty  well  covered 
with  small  tenements  occupied  by  negroes.  On  the 
corner  immediately  above  the  parsonage  stood  the  old 
church,  a  large,  unsightly  barn  of  a  house,  built  ori- 
ginally by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Merideth,  an  Englishman, 
one  of  Mr.  Hammet's  preachers,  a  bold,  intrepid,  sen- 
sible man,  who  seems  to  have  been  sent  of  God  to 
arouse  the  slumbering  inhabitants  of  a  very  wicked 
place  to  the  fear  of  God. 

When  I  went  to  Wilmington  I  found  a  number  of 
excellent  women  who  had  been  converted  under  our 


James  Osgood  Andrezv, 


8i 


ministry,  and  had  been  indulged  in  attending  all  our 
class-meetings  and  love-feasts,  but  who  had  not  joined 
the  Church  because  of  the  opposition  of  friends.  It  oc- 
curred to  me  that  it  might  be  well  enough  to  put 
some  of  them  to  the  test.  So  on  one  occasion,  just 
before  love-feast,  I  told  Sister  Hartridge  that  she  could 
not  enjoy  the  liberty  of  attending  love-feast  any  more 
unless  she  joined  us.  She  pleaded  hard,  but  I  was 
inflexible.  I  told  her  that  if  she  would  be  resolute 
and  trust  in  God,  I  thought  he  would  open  the  v/ay 
before  her,  and  that  God  would  control  the  heart  of 
her  husband.  She  finally  resolved  to  make  the  ven- 
ture. She  went  home,  and,  seizing  an  opportunity 
when  she  thought  her  husband  in  a  particularly 
pleasant  humor,  asked  his  permission  to  join  the 
Methodist  Church.  *  Why,  Anna,*  said  he,  *  I  thought 
you  had  joined  long  ago.'  *  Oh,  no,'  said  she; 
'I  would  not  do  it  without  your  consent.'  He 
asked  no  further  questions.  She  was  so  happy  that 
she  could  scarcely  sleep,  and  came  up  next  day  to  tell 
me  the  good  news  and  get  her  love-feast  ticket;  and 
from  that  time  she  became  one  of  our  most  active  and 
devoted  Christians. 

•  During  the  year  an  event  occurred  in  the  vicinity 
of  Wilmington  Avhich  created  quite  a  sensation  and 
exerted  an  influence  for  good.  A  few  miles  from 
Wilmington,  on  the  sea-coast,  at  his  beautiful  resi- 
dence, Grovediere,  lived  H.  B.  Howard,  a  man  of  con- 
siderable wealth.  His  mother  was  a  precious,  godly 
woman,  a  mother  in  Israel,  who  prayed  much  and  felt 
deeply  for  him  ;  but  he  was  an  avowed  unbeliever 
(and  there  were  not  a  few  such  in  those  parts  about 
that  time).  In  this  unbelief  he  had  lived  for  many 
4* 


82  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


years,  and  supposed  himself  thoroughly  fortified.  But 
it  pleased  God  to  use  the  death  of  an  old  and  faithful 
slave  as  the  means  of  his  awakening  and  conversion  : 
old  Peter  felt  sick  and  died,  and  was  consigned  to  his 
humble  grave  some  distance  from  the  house  of  his 
owner.  A  few  days  subsequently  his  master,  in 
walking  over  his  plantation,  found  himself  standing 
by  the  grave  of  his  faithful  old  servant.  He  silently 
viewed  for  some  time  the  little  mound  of  earth  which 
covered  the  old  negro's  mortal  remains.  As  he 
gazed  he  looked  back  upon  the  many  years  of  faithful 
service  which  Peter  had  rendered  him.  He  thought 
of  his  honesty,  his  humility,  his  consistent  and  unob- 
trusive piety,  and  he  almost  involuntarily  exclaimed  : 
'  Yes,  old  man,  you  are  dead,  but  you  are  happy !  * 
The  sound  of  his  voice,  and  especially  the  sentiments 
uttered,  startled  him,  and  he  walked  away  designing 
to  leave  the  spot ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  he  found 
himself  again  at  the  grave  of  good  old  Peter,  to  pass 
through  the  same  train  of  thought  and  to  utter  the 
same  exclamation  as  before  :  *  Yes,  you  are  dead,  but 
you  are  happy.  But,'  added  he,  '  if  that  be  true 
what  becomes  of  my  principles  ?  Peter  was  a  Chris- 
tian, and  I  have  repudiated  Christ  and  the  revelatioils 
of  the  Bible  altogether ;  if  my  doctrine  is  true,  how 
can  he  be  happy  ?  and  if  he  is  happy,  how  can  my 
doctrine  be  true  ?  But  may  not  the  Bible  be  true 
after  all  ?  I  have  never  read  it  ;  I  have  never  exam- 
ined the  evidences  of  its  authenticity.  Will  it  not  be 
wise  in  me  to  look  into  this  matter  a  little  more 
closely  ? '  He  finally  resolved  that  he  would  com- 
mence the  study  of  the  Scriptures  with  an  honest 
desire  to  ascertain  their  truth,  and  if  he  found  in  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  83 

Bible  itself  sufficient  evidence  of  its  authenticity,  he 
would  renounce  his  infidelity  and  become  a  Christian. 
He  entered  upon  his  work  in  good  earnest,  and  as  he 
read  light  increased,  until  before  he  had  gotten  half 
way  through  the  book  he  closed  it  and  exclaimed  : 
*  Yes,  this  is  the  Book  of  God.'  And  now  not  only 
was  his  infidelity  gone,  but  he  made  a  most  astound- 
ing discovery :  that  he  was  a  lost  man  without  a 
change  of  heart.  That  change  he  set  himself  to  seek 
with  all  his  power.  He  called  his  astonished  friends 
together  and  told  them  that  he  had  all  along  been 
setting  bad  examples  before  them,  but  that  God  had 
opened  his  eyes,  and  that  henceforth  he  intended  to 
lead  a  new  life,  and  earnestly  begged  them  all,  white 
and  colored,  to  seek  the  Lord  and  aid  him  in  his 
attempts  to  serve  God.  It  was  not  long  before  he 
obtained  the  witness  of  pardoning  grace  ;  he  united 
himself  with  our  Church,  and  the  result  was  that  quite 
a  number  of  his  friends  were  converted  and  joined  us, 
among  the  rest  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Anderson,  and  her 
husband.  I  shall  never  forget  the  night  Brother  An- 
derson joined  the  Church.  It  was  at  a  love-feast  in 
the  old  church.  We  had  a  most  precious  time.  Quite 
a  number  had  joined,  and  the  meeting  was  about  to 
close.  I  had  noticed  throughout  the  meeting  that  Mr. 
Anderson  was  deeply  affected,  and  I  was  specially 
anxious  for  him  to  unite  with  the  Church  at  once  ; 
but  there  he  stood,  far  back  in  the  house,  weeping  but 
immovable  as  a  post.  Finally  I  said,  '  We'll  sing 
another  hymn,'  and  we  began  ;  but  before  we  had  gone 
far  my  friend  Anderson  started  and  came  rushing  to 
the  altar,  exclaiming  as  he  approached,  '  Thank  God, 
I  have  conquered  my  pride.'    It  was,  indeed,  a  glo- 


84 


TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 


rious  victory  for  him.  From  that  hour  he  never 
faltered.  He  removed  afterward  to  Louisville,  Ken- 
tucky, where  he  died  a  few  years  since  in  the  faith  and 
hope  of  the  gospel.  His  eldest  son/  whom  I  baptized 
in  his  infancy,  has  been  for  several  years  a  beloved 
and  useful  itinerant  minister.  In  the  month  of  April 
of  this  year  I  first  knew  a  father's  feelings,  my  excel- 
lent wife  having  presented  me  with  a  daughter'^ — a  fine 
child,  of  course,  and  very  pretty — so  all  the  ladies  said 
who  visited  at  the  parsonage  ;  but  whether  they  sup- 
posed that  she  had  taken  her  good  looks  from  her 
father  or  her  mother,  I  can't  now  exactly  recollect. 
But  I  do  remember  that  the  thought  of  this  relation 
brought  into  my  heart  a  train  of  affections  and  feel- 
ings entirely  new  :  we  gave  our  little  one  to  God,  and 
I  believe  the  offering  was  accepted.  God,  I  trust,  has 
made  her  his  child,  and  to  me  she  has  been  all  that  a 
father  could  desire.  And  now,  farewell  to  Wilming- 
ton for  the  present." 

So  far  the  recollections  ;  now  the  journal : 
"  April  4,  1 817. — This  day  my  dear  wife  was  safely 
delivered  of  a  daughter.  In  eight  days  after  its  birth 
we  dedicated  it  to  God  in  the  ordinance  of  baptism. 
Oh,  my  God,  enable  us  to  discharge  faithfully  our  duty 
as  parents.  I  now  purpose  to  commence  on  my  birth- 
day a  journal  of  my  life,  which  shall  serve,  when  I  am 
gone,  as  a  record  of  my  imperfections  and  the  good- 
ness of  God  toward  me. 

"  I  daily  discover  fresh  proofs  of  my  ignorance,  and 
feel  now  the  importance  of  early  improvement.  Oh, 


^  The  Rev.  Dr.  W.  H.  Anderson,  now  of  Nicolasville,  Ky. 
2  Elizabeth,  afterward  Mrs.  Dr.  Lovett. 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  85 


had  I  spent  those  hours  in  useful  reading  which  were 
spent  in  reading  romances,  I  might  now  have  been 
better  qualified  to  instruct  others.  I  desire  ardently 
to  acquire  useful  knowledge,  but  one  great  misfortune 
with  me  is  that  I  cannot  confine  myself  to  the  unin- 
terrupted perusal  and  investigation  of  any  one  work  ; 
I  love  to  explore  a  multiplicity  together — my  genius 
is  quite  volatile. 

"  May  3rtf. — I  am  this  day  twenty- three  years  of 
age,  and  when  I  look  back  on  my  past  life  it  seems  as  a 
dream  unto  me.  But  yesterday,  when  I  retrospect,!  was 
a  child,  enjoying  all  the  amusements  of  children,  know- 
ing nothing  but  the  happiness  of  the  day,  and  scarcely 
anticipating  the  evil  of  the  morrow.  Those  days  of 
sportive  happiness  are  fled  with  their  endearing  pleas- 
ures, and  have  been  succeeded  by  the  more  solid  pur- 
suits of  my  riper  years.  The  desire  for  childish  amuse- 
ments has  given  way  to  a  thirst  for  useful  knowledge, 
and  I  can  now  only  look  back  and  reproach  myself  for 
having  spent  so  much  of  my  time  in  the  pursuit  of  but- 
terflies and  gaudy  trifles.  Could  we  learn  from  advice 
what  we  learn  from  experience,  how  many  might  save 
themselves  the  pain  of  repenting  old  age.  How  short 
the  time  of  our  probation,  how  soon  is  our  work  ac- 
comphshed  and  we  are  summoned  to  give  an  account 
of  our  stewardship.  «  I  have  spent  twenty-three  years 
to  very  little  purpose.  Lord,  forgive  an  unprofitable 
servant  and  help  me  to  do  better  in  time  to  come. 
In  a  Uttle  more  than  twelve  months  I  have  become  a 
husband  and  a  father.  God  has  given  me  as  a  bosom 
companion  one  whom  I  believe  is  wedded  to  Christ 
Jesus  by  a  living  faith,  one  who  is  engaged  in  the 
Master's  work.    I  have  been  for  more  than  four  years 


86 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


an  itinerant  minister,  and  notwithstanding  the  many- 
trials  incident  to  such  a  life,  I  prefer  it  to  all  others. 

"Yes,  the  sweet  union  and  communion  with  the 
brethren  amply  repays  me,  and  the  prospect  of  glory 
more  than  compensates  me  for  all.  I  shall  live  and 
die  among  them  if  the  Lord's  will  be  so,  but  I  want  a 
more  entire  conformity  to  the  Saviour's  image.  I 
want  to  be  sanctified  wholly  throughout  soul,  body, 
and  spirit.  We  had  a  good  love-feast  last  night.  Three 
joined  society.  Oh,  may  their  names  be  written  in 
the  Lamb's  Book  of  Life.  We  had  a  good  prayer-meet- 
ing yesterday.  Several  of  the  Episcopalians  attended. 
Many  of  these  love  our  meetings,  and  some  of  them 
would  join  us  but  for  feai?  of  persecution  ;  however,  I 
believe  some  of  them  will  reach  heaven.  If  they  are 
not  against  us,  they  are  for  us.  To  morrow  will  be  a 
sacred  day  to  the  followers  of  the  Redeemer,  for  we 
then  expect  to  commemorate  the  sufferings  of  the 
Saviour  of  sinners.  May  each  communicant  be  able  to 
say  by  faith,  *  He  died  for  me.'  May  we  behold  with 
sacred  joy  the  symbols  of  his  broken  body  and  his 
shed  blood. 

On  this  day  began  another  year  of  my  life.  May- 
it  be  spent  more  wisely  than  any  former  year  of  my 
being.  I  feel  a  great  desire  to  read  the  Scriptures  in 
the  original  language,  and  have  determined  to  devote 
a  part  of  every  day  to  the  study  of  the  Hebrew  tongue. 
I  lack  both  books  and  instructors,  yet  I  will  try  ;  there 
is  nothing  like  perseverance. 

May  ^th. — I  went  to-day  to  the  foundation  of  the 
new  house  we  are  building.  I  should  rejoice  to  see 
it  finished  before  I  leave,  but  1  fear  the  want  of  funds 
will  prevent." 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


87 


The  journal  evidences  that  he  had  improved  much, 
but  still  he  had  better  use  of  his  tongue  than  of  his 
pen.  The  patient  study,  however,  of  old  Dillvvorth  in 
the  Elbert  schoolhouse  is  manifest,  and  the  spelling  is 
nearly  always  good  ;  the  chirography,  if  not  graceful, 
yet  always  legible.  He  says  he  had  been  reading 
Rollin,  a  great  book  in  those  times.  His  comments 
on  the  history  and  its  lessons  are  very  apt  and  pithy. 

He  evidently  had  the  same  trouble  that  pastors  in 
small  towns  always  have,  and  comments  :  "I  daily 
see  more  and  more  of  the  bad  effects  of  tattling,  yet 
how  many  of  our  people  love  to  be  guilty  of  it,  to  the 
injury  of  the  Church  of  God.  Oh,  Lord,  destroy  this 
evil  from  among  us." 

Visiting  the  sick  was  an  office  he  had  often  to  fill, 
and  on  Monday,  May  13th,  he  says:  I  have  this 
day  paid  several  visits.  I  went  in  the  forenoon  to 
visit  old  Mr.  Lymas,  who  is  dying  of  consumption  and 
who  is  very  near  the  grave.  He  appears  to  be  in  some 
degree  sensible  of  his  state.  I  endeavored  to  point 
him  to  Christ  Jesus,  and  after  having  commended 
him  to  God  in  prayer,  I  left  him.  In  the  afternoon  I 
visited  another  sick  family  who  v/ere  in  great  distress, 
and  in  the  evening  I  was  called  on  to  visit  a  poor 
sailor  who  was  sick.  I  found  him  strongly  con- 
victed for  his  sins,  and  I  exhorted  him  to  look  to  the 
friend  of  sinners.  I  prayed  for  him,  and  left  him  with 
a  promise  that  I  would  call  the  next  day. 

**  May  ilth. — I  called  this  morning  on  the  poor  man 
I  visited  last  evening.  I  found  him  under  deep  con- 
cern for  his  soul,  though  his  health  was  better. 

**I  visited  Mr.  L.,  who  was,  to  all  appearance,  near 
the  grave.  He  said  his  pain  was  so  great  that  he  could 


88 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


not  pray.  I  have  seen  the  fatal  effects  of  putting  off 
repentance  to  a  dying  hour." 

Wednesday,  after  preaching,  he  says  :  I  felt  the 
precious  melting  influence  of  the  spirit  of  God  and 
•  could  say  by  the  Spirit,  *  Abba  Father.'  I  have  heard 
good  news  from  our  camp-meeting — five  thousand  peo- 
ple attended  on  Sunday  and  fifty  whites  professed 
conversion.    Glory  to  God  for  his  goodness. 

Friday,  i6th. — I  am  conscious  of  my  defects  ;  is  it 
not  my  privilege  to  be  holy,  yet  how  far  beneath  it  do 
I  live  ?  Oh,  Jesus  !  raise  me  higher,  nearer  to  thyself. 

Sunday,  \  Zth. — I  this  morning  visited  the  Episcopal 
church  and  attended  the  Sunday-school  attended  to 
regularly  by  the  ladies  of  this  place  ;  there  were,  I  sup- 
pose, thirty  children  present,  and  I  was  edified  by  being 
there.  Oh,  Lord,  do  bless  these  pious  females  in  their 
work  of  love  !  I  then  heard  Rev.  A.  Empie  preach. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  was  ever  present  at  the  Episcopal 
Church  service  ;  I  think,  although  it  may  be  very  good, 
yet  it  is  quite  too  prolix,  and  necessarily  has  a  tendency 
to  make  people  formal.  I  am  more  in  favor  of  Mr. 
Wesley's  plan  for  public  worship — sing  short  hymns, 
pray  short  prayers,  and  preach  short  sermons." 

From  this  entry  it  is  evident  that  the  Methodists 
did  not  have  a  Sunday  school  in  Wilmington  at  that 
time.  He  adopted  Mr.  Wesley's  plan,  of  which  he 
speaks.  I  can  remember,  in  my  childhood,  when  I 
often  heard  him,  that  one  of  my  chief  pleasures  in  see- 
ing him  in  the  pulpit  was  that  I  knew  he  would  preach 
so  I  could  understand  him,  and  not  be  long  at  it.  He 
says  again  :  "  My  health  is  not  good,  but  all  I  want  is 
Jesus.  Give  me  Jesus  and  my  soul  is  satisfied.  Oh, 
how  ardently  I  long  for  the  salvation  of  God  even  in 


James  Osgood  Aiidreiv. 


89 


Wilmington.  God  be  merciful  to  me  an  unprofitable 
servant. 

''June  ijth. — I  have  this  day  been  considerably  un- 
well and  have  thought  much  of  the  other  world.  It  may 
be  that  this  year  may  finish  my  work  below,  and  oh,  if 
I  can  only  finish  my  course  in  peace,  all  will  be  well. 

"  I  was  to-day  much  edified  by  reading  an  ac- 
count of  Mr.  Kirkland,  an  Indian  missionary,  as  also 
an  account  of  the  first  Danish  missionaries  to  the  East 
Indies.  When  I  read  of  their  sufferings  and  diligence 
I  blush  ;  when  I  read  of  their  success  I  rejoice.  I 
sometimes  think  if  I  could  speak  the  Asiatic  languages 
and  Providence  opened  my  way,  a  missionary  life 
would  be  preferable  to  any  other,  and  yet  there  is  a 
large  field  for  laborers  in  America." 

He  longing  to  be  a  missionary,  who  had  been  one 
all  his  life.  The  year  before,  three  thousand  souls,  as 
truly  subjects  of  mission  labor  as  the  Hindoos,  and 
this  year  seven  hundred,  were  under  his  care,  but  the 
spirit  which  drove  to  regions  beyond  was  there.  If 
they  had  not  made  him  a  Bishop  and  if  the  Bishops 
had  said  the  word,  he  would  have  died  in  Africa. 

I  am  sometimes  depressed  when  I  think  of  our  pros- 
pects. We  have  but  few  traveling  preachers  now  and 
they  are  diminishing,  and  but  very  few  are  coming  for- 
ward. I  have  only  one  consolation,  and  that  is  that  the 
work  is  God's,  and  he  will  provide  means  to  carry  it  on. 
Another  source  of  uneasiness  is,  we  have  a  large  and  re- 
spectable body  of  local  preachers  in  Georgia,  and  among 
them  are  those  who  seem  disposed  to  overthrow  the 
present  order  of  the  Methodist  Church,  and  establish  a 
new  system  of  government.  I  trust  that  God  will 
order  all  things  right  in  the  end. 


90 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


"'Monday,  2'^d. — I  had  a  sore  conflict  with  the 
enemy  of  my  soul's  salvation.  I  was  greatly  tempted 
to  leave  off  preaching  from  the  reflection  that  I  do  no 
good,  and  would  do  a  great  deal  better  in  the  corn-field 
than  in  the  pulpit,  yet  I  feel  that  a  dispensation  of  the 
Gospel  is  committed  to  me,  and  woe  is  me  if  I  preach 
not  the  Gospel  of  Christ  Jesus.  I  feel  also  that  God 
delivers  me  when  I  look  to  him. 

July  2gth. — I  have  seen  and  heard  a  great  deal  of 
human  misery  and  wickedness  ;  yet,  praised  be  the 
Lord,  these  were  not  the  only  scenes  which  I  have  be- 
held. I  have  seen  some  precious  outpourings  of  his 
grace.  I  have  heard  the  cries  of  broken-hearted  peni- 
tents and  the  shouts  of  heaven-born  souls,  and  have 
seen  the  people  of  God  edified  and  walking  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord." 

His  journal  gives  a  full  account  of  the  conversion 
of  Henry  B.  Howard,  brother  of  John  Howard,  which 
is  also  given  in  his  reminiscences.  He  speaks  of 
another  deist  who  died  in  Wilmington  while  he  was 
there,  who,  when  he  found  he  must  die,  repeated  the 
Apostles'  Creed,  and  quoted  many  passages  from  the 
New  Testament.  He  adds  :  "  Men  may  live  fools,  but 
fools  they  cannot  die." 

There  was  much  sickness  in  Wilmington,  but  his 
family  escaped  serious  attack.  His  wife  left  him  on 
December  1st  to  go  to  Charleston,  and  he  followed  on 
the  22d,  in  his  old  sulky,  of  which  he  gives  so  graphic 
an  account. 

In  September,  1817,  he  wrote  the  only  letter  which 
has  been  preserved.  It  was  mailed  to  John  Andrew, 
at  Lexington.  The  family  had  now  removed  from 
Old  Elbert : 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


91 


To  JOHN  ANDREW. 

"Wilmington,  September  26,  1817. 

*' My  Dear  Father: 

These  lines  will  inform  you  that  I  live  and  enjoy 
a  good  degree  of  health,  thanks  be  unto  God  for 
his  goodness.  Amelia  is  also  well ;  our  little  girl  has 
been  very  ill  for  a  few  days,  but,  blessed  be  God,  she 
has  recovered  in  a  good  degree.  The  town  has  been 
unusually  healthy  throughout  the  season  until  with- 
in a  short  time  past,  and  even  now  it  is  not  sickly, 
as  usual  at  this  season.  I  am  still  striving  to  know 
and  do  my  Master's  will.  I  find  this  the  most  pleas- 
ing of  all  employment,  wherl  I  can  stand  on  the  walls 
of  Zion  and  invite  sinners  to  the  Lamb  of  God,  who 
takes  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  I  want  only  more 
holiness.  Oh,  may  I  be  wholly  the  Lord's  !  I  think 
I  can  say  the  prosperity  of  Zion  is  the  principal  de- 
sire of  my  soul.  I  daily  see  more  and  more  that  if  we 
serve  God,  we  must  serve  him  alone.  Our  religious 
prospects  are  pleasing  in  this  place,  glory  to  God  for 
it.  We  have  had  considerable  accessions  to  our  so- 
ciety latterly,  and  are  expecting  more  shortly.  May 
God  increase  the  number  more  abundantly.  This 
place  has  once  been  Satan's  seat,  perhaps  it  has  been 
the  greatest  nest  of  deism  that  was  to  be  found,  con- 
sidering its  size,  but  our  God  has  shaken  them  terri- 
bly, and  their  faith  seems  to  be  staggered.  Oh,  that 
many  of  them  may  become  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  At 
our  last  love-feast,  ten  joined  the  society.  I  have 
gained  in  the  course  of  this  year,  in  this  place,  nearly 
forty  whites  and  about  one  hundred  blacks  ;  the  work 
is  also  spreading  in  the  adjoining  neighborhood.  God 
is  awakening  sinners,  converting  mourners,  and  there 


92 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


appears  to  be  an  increasing  degree  of  love  and  peace 
among  the  society.  I  have  already  begun  to  antici- 
pate the  time  when  I  must  leave  this  affectionate  peo- 
ple. Were  I  to  give  way  to  my  nature,  I  should  be 
sorry,  but  I  have  given  myself  to  God  and  his  work, 
and  shall  not  complain.  I  must  now  draw  to  a  close. 
Amelia  received  mamma's  letter.  I  cannot  tell  at  what 
time  this  winter  I  shall  be  able  to  see  you,  or  whether 
it  will  be  in  my  power  to  bring  my  wife  with  me.  My 
next  will  inform  you.  Amelia  unites  with  nie  in  love 
to  yourself,  my  beloved  mother,  our  brothers  and 
sisters. 

I  remain  yours, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

The  growth  of  the  young  preacher  had  been  swift 
since  he  began  his  ministry,  and  he  never  grew  more 
rapidly  than  during  this  first  year  in  Wilmington.  The 
blessed  effects  of  his  happy  marriage  were  manifest, 
and  the  good  results  of  the  Bishop's  appointment. 
Many  a  young  man  had  been  lost  in  obscurity  by 
never  having  been  called  out  and  put  up  to  his  met- 
tle ;  many  a  man  who  might  have  made  a  preacher  of 
the  highest  order  has  been  dwarfed  by  the  decision  of 
those  in  power  that  he  would  never  do  for  a  place 
which  he  was,  perhaps,  not  then  fully  prepared  to  fill. 
The  wisdom  of  the  Bishop  in  taking  Lovick  Pierce 
from  the  Apalachee  Circuit  and  putting  him  in  Au- 
gusta, and  taking  James  O.  Andrew  from  the  Warren 
Circuit  and  placing  him  in  Charleston,  was  vindicated 
by  results.  They  were  called  upon  to  put  forth  all 
their  strength,  and  they  did  so.  The  journal  shows 
that  the  preacher  in  charge  at  Wilmington  ate  no  idle 


James  Osgood  Aiidreiv. 


93 


bread.  He  preached  on  Sunday  at  ii  A.M.,  again  at 
3  P.M.,  and  again  at  night;  Monday  night,  prayer- 
meeting  ;  Wednesday  night,  preaching  ;  Friday  night, 
class-meeting — four  sermons  a  week  and  one  prayer- 
meeting.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  one  worthy  to  be 
studied,  that  when  these  frequent  services  were  held, 
and  when  they  were  often  long,  the  people  attended 
them  better  than  they  do  now  when  they  are  fevvei; 
and  shorter.  Nor  did  the  preacher  break  down  in  his 
work.  Lovick  Pierce  lived  to  be  ninety-five,  John 
Early  and  James  O.  Andrew  to  reach  nearly  the  eigh- 
tieth year,  while  many  a  studious  dyspeptic,  who 
manages  to  employ  thirty-five  minutes  on  Sabbath 
morning,  and  is  then  exhausted,  both  in  mind  and 
body,  is  a  valetudinarian  at  forty. 

He  went  to  the  homely  little  parsonage  he  describes, 
without  complaint.  It  was  the  best  a  poor,  warm- 
hearted, willing  people  could  do,  and  there  was  no 
shrinking  from  the  discomfort.  He  was  the  Lord's  ; 
he  was  to  go  where  the  Lord  said  and  do  the  work 
assigned  to  him,  and  take  what  came  as  from  his 
hand. 

The  Conference,  as  we  shall  see,  met  in  Augusta, 
Bishops  McKendree  and  Roberts  both  being  present. 
The  reminiscences  tell  of  the  session  ;  the  journal  of 
something  more  touching. 

I  went  up  into  Oglethorpe  County  to  visit  my 
dear  old  parents.  After  a  very  fatiguing  route,  I  ar- 
rived at  the  little  cabin  in  which  they  dwell,  and, 
praised  be  the  name  of  God,  I  found  them  all  in 
good  health,  and,  though  they  are  very  poor,  they 
appear  happy  and  contented.  If  Jesus  is  an  inmate 
of  the  family,  then  surely  there  is  peace.    When  I 


94 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


look  at  the  situation  of  my  parents,  when  I  see  them 
destitute  of  many  of  the  comforts  of  Hfe,  I  am  almost 
tempted  to  locate  ;  yet  when  I  think  again  that  God 
has  called  me  toother  work,  I  cannot  consent  to  leave 
the  field  of  itinerancy.  If  I  am  doing  the  Lord's 
work,  may  I  not  be  assured  of  his  protection  being 
extended  to  me  and  mine  ?  Have  I  not  the  promise 
of  God  ?  Then  upon  this  I  lean.  After  staying  a  day 
or  two  with  them,  I  again  started  for  Wilmington." 

What  a  beautiful  picture  !  Two  hundred  miles 
through  mud  and  cold,  to  spend  two  or  three  days 
with  the  aged  parents  in  their  old  cabin  home  ;  nor  did 
he  go  empty-handed,  we  may  be  sure.  Scant  as  the 
support  was  in  Wilmington  in  those  days,  there  was 
enough  to  keep  the  dear  old  people  in  Oglethorpe. 
Such  grand  faith,  too.  Tempted  to  locate — yes  ;  but 
not  to  secure  a  sweet  home  for  Amelia  and  the  little 
girl  ;  not  to  secure  exemption  from  long  rides  and 
weary  toil ;  not  to  escape  ecclesiastical  tyranny,  as  the 
phrase  went  in  those  days  ;  but  to  take  care  of  an  old 
father  and  the  best  of  mothers.  Biit  the  reminiscences 
must  find  a  voice. 

The  year  closed,  and  I  was  to  leave  a  people  be- 
tween whom  and  myself  there  existed  the  kindliest  feel- 
ings. A  week  or  two  prior  to  my  own  departure  I 
sent  my  wife  and  child,  by  sea,  to  Charleston  on  a 
visit  to  her  mother.  I  determined  to  go  by  land,  and 
for  this  purpose  I  purchased  a  horse  and  borrowed  an 
old  sulky,  and  set  out  on  my  route  through  the  swamps 
of  the  two  Carolinas  for  Charleston.  Before  my  sec- 
ond day's  journey  was  accomplished  I  discovered  that 
my  land  craft  was  not  to  be  relied  on  ;  it  might  do 
for  Wilmington,  but  a  week's  run  over  pine-roots  in 


James  Osgood  Aiidreiv. 


95 


the  country  had  a  very  unfavorable  effect  on  its  in- 
tegrity. The  infirmities  of  age  pressed  heavily  upon 
it,  and  it  required  all  my  skill,  together  with  a  num- 
ber of  rope  appliances,  to  reach  Charleston  after  a 
long  and  fatiguing  ride.  My  route  from  Wilmington 
was  by  way  of  Town  Creek,  Shallotte,  across  Peedee 
at  Grier's  Ferry,  Black  River,  at  Pringles,  and  so  on 
to  Georgetown  ;  thence  across  the  delectable  cause- 
way at  Santee  Ferry,  and  on  to  Charleston.  If  any 
of  my  readers  ever  traveled  that  road  in  December 
about  thirty-five  years  ago,  they  can  form  some  no- 
tion of  the  pleasures  of  my  trip.  One  incident  con- 
nected with  it  I  give.  I  had  been  traveling  hard  all  day, 
in  order  to  cross  the  Peedee  before  dark,  but  night 
came  on  while  I  was  two  or  three  miles  from  the 
river.  It  was  a  dismal  road,  and  I  was  a  stranger, 
not  knowing  the  way  nor  where  I  might  lodge. 
My  feelings,  of  course,  were  not  the  most  delightful. 
While  thus  jogging  along  I  discovered  a  man  trudging 
through  the  water  a  little  ahead  of  me.  I  hailed  and 
brought  him  to  a  parley.  It  was  a  negro  on  his  way 
to  his  wife's  house.  After  conversing  a  few  moments, 
'  Massa,*  said  he,  '  ain't  you  Mr.  Kennedy?  '  (my  ex- 
cellent Presiding  Elder).  '  No,'  said  I.  '  Well,'  said 
he,  *  you  is  a  Methodist  preacher,  and  I  is  a  Methodist 
and  knows  a  heap  of  de  preachers.'  What  led  him  to 
suspect  my  character  I  don't  know,  for  it  was  quite 
dark,  and  there  was  not,  I  believe,  anything  in  my  voice 
resembling  my  beloved  Brother  Kennedy  ;  but  the 
meeting  with  the  negro  was  quite  a  providence  to  me, 
and  my  strange  brother  and  myself  were  soon  on  the 
best  of  terms.  He  kindly  consented  to  pilot  me  through 
the  swamps  to  the  ferry,  which  was  very  fortunate,  as 


96 


The  Life  atid  Letters  of 


there  was  no  house  at  which  I  could  stay  till  I  could 
cross  the  river.  Before  reaching  the  main  river  we  had 
to  ferry  over  a  large  creek  called  Bull  River,  and  then 
half  a  mile  brought  us  to  the  main  river.  When  we 
reached  it  the  hour  was  so  late  that  the  ferryman 
had  left  for  his  house,  which  was  so  far  off  that  all 
our  hallooing  failed  to  rouse  him.  In  this  dilemma 
there  were  only  two  alternatives  :  one  was  to  sleep 
all  night  on  the  bank,  which  was  not  a  very  pleasant 
anticipation  ;  and  the  other  was  for  my  good  friend  to 
walk  back  to  Bull  River,  get  a  canoe  and  paddle  it 
into  the  main  stream,  and  then  come  down  to  the 
ferry  and  go  over  to  the  other  side,  bring  the  flat 
over,  and  put  me  across.  This  act  of  kindness  he 
cheerfully  performed,  and  thus  relieved  me  from  a 
very  awkward  and  unpleasant  predicament. 

**  Arriving  at  Charleston  I  found  my  friends  all  well, 
and  after  spending  a  few  days  I  left  for  Conference, 
which  w^s  held  in  Augusta.  Our  company  consisted 
of  Bishop  McKendree,  Wm.  M.  Kennedy,  Wm.  B. 
Barnet,  Lewis  Myers,  and  Wm.  Kennedy,  whom  by 
way  of  distinction  we  used  to  call  Little  Billy  ;  and 
let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  a  trip  to  Augusta  was  a 
much  more  serious  affair  in  those  days  than  now.  We 
had  then  no  puffing,  snorting  express  which  could 
land  us  there  in  four  or  five  hours.  It  was  then  a  four 
days'  jog,  with  the  delightful  variety  of  swamps,  mud- 
holes,  and  pine-roots.  During  the  three  days  of  our 
journey  which  brought  us  to  Tinker's  Creek,  our  com- 
pany was  exceedingly  pleasant.  Bishop  McKendree 
was  very  communicative  and  interesting,  and  what 
with  his  very  intelligent  conversation,  his  genial  good 
humor,  and  the  keenness  of  his  wit,  he  kept  us  all  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


97 


while  interested  and  amused,  but  when  we  reached 
the  memorable  Tinker's  Creek  the  scene  changed. 
The  Bishop  was  unwell,  and  he  began  by  this  time  to 
fear  that  Bishop  Roberts,  in  consequence  of  the  un- 
usually heavy  floods  of  rain,  would  not  meet  him  in 
Augusta.  The  result  was  that  he  became  quite  taci- 
turn, nor  could  all  the  efforts  of  our  host  (him  of  hoU/- 
leaf  memory)  draw  him  into  any  sort  of  discussion, 
although  our  landlord  entertained  us  with  a  learned 
disquisition  upon  the  various  religious  opinions  which 
divided  the  world.  He  said  it  was  a  subject  on  which 
he  had  been  at  work  for  twenty  years,  sometimes  laying 
down  the  tools,  but  soon  resuming  them  ;  but  that  he 
had  at  last  worked  out  the  problem.  He  said  he 
had  discovered  that  all  the  varieties  and  shades  of  re- 
ligious opinion  were  embraced  under  three  heads, 
Free  will^  Bond  willy  and  Restitution.  But  even  this 
important  announcement  failed  to  interest  the  Bishop, 
who  pleaded  headache  and  retired  to  bed.  The  next 
morning  found  him  not  at  all  improved  in  health,  and 
it  was  obvious  that  the  venerable  man  preferred  not  to 
be  interrupted,  so  we  youngsters  took  the  hint  and 
kept  to  ourselves.  We  reached  Augusta  safely  and 
the  Conference  began  the  next  day. 

*'  Bishop  McKendree  was  alone  for  the  first  few  days, 
but  toward  the  last  of  the  week  Bishop  Roberts  ar- 
rived. He  had  been  prevented  from  reaching  earlier 
by  high  waters.  He  was  in  fine  health,  and  we  were 
all  quite  in  love  with  the  new  Bishop.  The  night  be- 
fore he  reached  Augusta,  at  the  house  of  the  excellent 
Dr.  Moon,  in  Newberry  District,  occurred  the  incident 
which  has  furnished  the  text  for  the  exaggerated  story 
which  has  been  so  often  published,  entitled,  '  Bishop 
5 


98 


The  Life  afid  Letters  of 


George  and  the  Young  Preacher/  I  recollect  that 
one  morning  during  the  Conference  Bishop  McKen- 
dree  exultingly  held  up  before  us  a  neat  looking 
pamphlet.  '  See  here,'  said  the  old  gentleman.  Well, 
what  was  it  ?  Why,  it  was  the  first  number  of  the 
Methodist  Magazine^  which,  with  hard  scuffling,  and 
after  much  delay,  our  book  agents  had  brought  out. 
The  announcement  produced  quite  a  sensation  in  the 
Conference.  Up  to  that  time  we  had  not  even  a 
thumb  paper  through  which  we  might  converse  with 
one  another  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  or  through  whose 
columns  we  might  be  able  to  repel  the  numberless  as- 
saults which  were  constantly  being  made  upon  us. 
We  felt  that  we  were  rising  in  the  world.  Yet  it 
would  seem  that  in  that  day  it  was  doubted  whether 
enough  original  matter  would  be  forthcoming  for  the 
monthly  issues  ;  so  there  was  a  committee  appointed 
by  the  Annual  Conference  to  collect  and  forward  mat- 
ter for  publication.  I  don't  know  whether  it  was  so 
in  all  the  Annual  Conferences  ;  T  know  it  was  so  in 
the  old  South  Carolina.  The  magazine  was  published 
for  several  years,  when,  in  consequence  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  one  or  more  weekly  church  papers,  it  was 
changed  to  a  quarterly.  The  time  of  which  I  have 
spoken  was  the  close  of  1817.  What  a  change  since 
that  time  !  Now  it  is  a  smart  job  to  count  up  all  the 
church  papers,  North  and  South. 

The  Conference  closed  and  I  was  ordered  back  to 
Wilmington  ;  so,  returning  to  Charleston  for  my  fam- 
ily, I  was  soon  fixed  up  and  under  way  for  my  field  of 
labor.  But  as  I  had  a  feeling  remembrance  of  my 
eight  days'  voyage  of  the  previous  winter,  I  resolved 
to  follow  the  advice  of  my  seafaring  friend,  and  try  it 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


99 


this  time  by  land  ;  so  I  procured  an  old  gig,  and  taking 
my  wife  and  child  aboard,  we  started  for  Wilmington. 
There  had  been  unusual  floods  of  rain,  and  the  roads 
were  consequently  very  bad  ;  and  we  had  no  small 
difficulty  in  making  our  land  navigation.  Once  we  got 
into  a  mud-hole  and  were  fairly  mired  down,  so  that 
I  had  to  take  my  wife  and  child  out  in  my  arms,  and 
then  with  much  ado  the  horse  was  enabled  to  pull  out 
the  empty  gig.  When  we  reached  the  Waccamaw 
River  at,  or  near,  Conwayborough,  we  were  ferried 
over  by  two  white  women — rather  a  novel  arrange- 
ment, but  they  performed  their  task  well,  and  landed 
us  safely  on  the  opposite  shore.  We  finally  reached 
our  old  home  in  safety,  and  met  a  warm  and  cordial 
welcome  from  our  friends.  We  spent  a  second  de- 
lightful and  prosperous  year  in  Wilmington.  The 
work  of  God  continued  steadfastly  to  advance,  and 
the  Church  increased  not  only  in  numbers  but  also  in 
piety.  In  addition  to  a  large  and  respectable 
membership  among  the  whites,  we  had  also  connected 
with  the  Wilmington  church  a  very  large  society  of 
blacks,  I  think  somewhere  about  seven  hundred  mem- 
bers, and,  take  them  together,  it  was  about  the  best  col- 
ored church  it  has  ever  been  my  lotto  serve  ;  a  consider- 
able number  of  them  were  rather  remarkable  for  their 
intelligent  piety.  When  I  first  went  to  Wilmington 
they  raised  all  our  tunes,  and  it  was  generally  very 
well  done.  The  leader  of  the  music  was  Roger  Hazel, 
a  cooper,  a  man  of  exemplary  character  and  consider- 
able intelligence.  In  fact,  I  believe  that  Roger  con- 
tinued, during  all  my  stay  among  them,  the  chief  leader 
of  our  singing.  The  blacks  sung  very  well,  and  it 
would  have  mattered  but  Httle  who  raised %the  tunes, 


lOO 


The  Life  a7td  Letters  of 


they  would  infallibly  have  led  them,  as  they  all  sung, 
did  it  well  and  lustily,  and  with  a  good  will.  Talk  of 
good  music  !  Why  I  have  stood  in  that  old  pulpit  on 
a  Sunday  night  after  preaching  my  third  sermon,  and 
just  when  we  were  closing  with  the  last  hymn,  some 
four  or  five  hundred  would  raise  their  voices  in  praise 
to  God,  and  I  assure  you  that  it  exceeded  all  the 
organs  and  choirs  I  have  ever  listened  to." 

He  writes  home  in  March  : 

"  Wilmington,  N.  C,  March  ii,  1818. 

My  Dear  Father  : 

Through  Divine  goodness  I  still  live,  and  both 
myself  and  family  enjoy  a  reasonable  portion  of  health. 
After  leaving  your  house  my  horse  recovered  from  his 
lameness  in  a  great  degree,  so  that  I  prosecuted  my 
journey  in  safety.  I  reached  there  on  Saturday  night, 
and  found  my  family  and  friends  all  well.  We  left 
Charleston  on  Tuesday  morning,  following,  and  after 
a  most  fatiguing  journey  arrived  safely  here  Feb- 
ruary 28th,  and  met  with  a  very  warm  and  affectionate 
reception  from  the  people.  Oh  that  our  coming 
here  may  be  for  good.  As  respects  religious  pros- 
pects, I  wish  I  could  give  a  more  flattering  account. 
At  present  I  can  only  say  our  congregations  are 
very  large  and  appear  to  be  serious.  Oh  that  they 
may  be  doers  and  not  hearers  of  the  word.  As  is 
usual  after  a  numerous  ingathering,  I  expect  there 
will  be  considerable  outgoing  this  year.  Lord,  give 
me  wisdom  to  use  the  pruning  knife  aright.  I  yet 
feel  like  dying  a  Methodist  preacher.  I  love  my  God 
and  feel  a  continual  yearning  of  soul  to  be  conformed 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


lOI 


to  my  Saviour's  image.  I  long  most  ardently  to  be 
an  able  and  successful  minister  of  the  New  Testament. 
I  trust  that  these  lines  will  find  yourself  and  family  in 
good  health.  Give  my  love  to  mother  and  all  the 
girls — in  short,  to  all  my  sisters  and  brothers. 

Amelia  sends  her  love  to  you  and  all.  I  shall  ex- 
pect to  receive  a  letter  from  you  shortly. 

**  I  am  yours  in  love, 

"  James  O.  Andrew. 

*'  P.  S. — Tell  mamma  that  Elizabeth  begins  to  talk, 
but  she  is  getting  to  be  quite  a  bad  child." 

Again  he  writes  : 

"Wilmington,  Junes,  1818. 

"  My  Dear  Father  : 

"  After  waiting  for  some  length  of  time,  and  feeling 
a  considerable  degree  of  uneasiness,  I  received  your 
letter  a  few  days  since,  and  now  sit  down  to  answer 
it.  I  rejoice  to  hear  of  the  health  of  yourself  and 
family,  yet  I  cannot  avoid  feeling  ill  at  ease  on  ac- 
count of  your  straitened  circumstances.  The  reflec- 
tion often  depresses  me,  yet  in  the  midst  of  all  I 
have  this  comfort — I  believe  I  am  engaged  in  the 
work  which  God  designed  me  to  perform,  and  God 
himself,  who  has  hitherto  provided  for  you  and  me, 
will  still  take  care  of  you  and  yours.  I  have  reason 
to  thank  God  that  I  enjoy  at  present  a  good  share  of 
health,  and  feel  still  like  doing  my  Master's  work. 
My  family  also  enjoys  health  at  this  time.  Our  little 
daughter  has  been  very  ill,  but  through  much  mercy, 
God  has  given  her  to  us  for  a  while  longer.  Our 
religious  prospects  are  rather  pleasing.     The  work 


I02 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


seems  to  be  of  God  and  to  be  still  growing,  and  we 
hope  to  see  yet  greater  times.  I  have  joined  in  so- 
ciety this  year  about  twenty-five  whites  and  several 
blacks.  We  had  a  very  good  camp-meeting  in  this 
neighborhood  a  week  or  two  ago.   Pray  for  me.  .  .  . 

And  now,  relative  to  the  complaints  about  the 
traveling  preachers.  I  would  say  you  already  know 
my  sentiments  concerning  the  murmurings  of  the  local 
preachers  in  Georgia.  There  are  many  among  them 
who,  no  doubt,  are  good  men  and  mean  well,  but  I  do 
not  think  their  claims  admissible.  It  is  an  old  adage, 
*  A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush.'  The 
itinerancy  has  been  already  owned  of  God  in  a  very 
glorious  manner.  The  new  plan  that  discontented 
spirits  would  suggest  has  not  been  tried.  We  know 
not  that  it  would  succeed,  and  there  are  many  objec- 
tionable features  in  it  that  would  lead  me  to  be  sus- 
picious of  its  excellence.  In  the  first  place,  whatever 
be  the  reason  assigned,  I  believe  the  real  intention  is 
to  immolate  the  old  plan  entirely  and  establish  a  new 
order  of  things.  The  itinerant  plan  established  by 
the  Father  of  Methodism  must  vanish  entirely,  and  it 
would  be  succeeded  ultimately  by  a  government  en- 
tirely congregational.  Look  at  the  situation  of  most 
of  the  congregations  in  that  part  of  the  country  which 
are  under  local  government,  and  we  see  what  we 
may  expect  when  we  tread  in  their  footsteps. 

"  I  know  that  there  are  many  individuals  in  these 
congregations  who  are  pious,  but  take  them  in  gen- 
eral and  how  little  of  the  power  of  religion  is  there  to 
be  found  among  the  majority  of  these  local  congrega- 
tions !  It  is  a  natural  tendency  of  the  faithful  itinerant 
ministry  to  keep  up  the  Hfe  of  rehgion  among  their 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


hearers  more  than  any  other.  Yet  if  it  should  be  said 
of  them  they  do  not  wish  this,  let  us  for  a  moment 
examine  a  few  of  the  different  steps  which  they  have 
taken,  and  the  requests  which  they  have  from  time  to 
time  urged.  I  believe  they  first  wished  to  have  some 
alteration  made  relative  to  the  ordination  of  local 
preachers,  and  then  they  wished  that  those  preachers 
should  be  allowed  a  delegation  to  the  General  Con- 
ference ;  then  they  wanted  a  seat  in  the  Annual  Con- 
ference, and  now  they  offer  their  services  to  the  Su- 
perintendent on  principles  altogether  inadmissible. 
They  will  be  the  servants  of  the  Conference,  but  the 
Conference  must  give  them  charge  of  certain  societies 
in  each  circuit  where  they  labor,  and  over  these  the 
circuit  preacher  is  not  allowed  to  exercise  any  author- 
ity. Half  a  circuit  is  to  be  under  local,  and  the  other 
half  under  itinerant  government.  If  I  have  misrepre- 
sented them  it  has  not,  I  assure  you,  been  done  inten- 
tionally." 

The  other  sheet  of  the  letter  is  missing.  A  good 
letter,  this,  for  a  young  man  of  twenty-four,  who  has 
just  begun  to  study.  Clear,  sensible,  strong  views  he 
always  had  ;  conservative  he  was,  too.  Conservative 
is  a  bad  word,  if  we  conserve  a  bad  thing,  and  a  blind 
conservatism  would  be  the  bar  of  all  progress.  When 
a  thing  is  bad,  radicalism  is  the  only  remedy — root  it 
up  !  away  with  it !  But  we  must  be  very  sure  the 
thing  is  bad  before  we  begin  with  the  spade  to  dig 
about  it.  Progress  is  good,  but  all  change  is  not 
progress. 

He  was  a  man  always  for  facts.  Does  this  thing 
work  well  ?  Has  that  plan  been  tried  ?  If  not  we 
will  hold  on  to  this  for  the  nonce.    And  a  thrifty  young 


I04 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


fellow  he  seems  to  have  beei^.  He  had  traveled  hard 
circuits  ;  he  had  received  but  little  pay  ;  but  he  had 
bought  a  piece  of  land  worth  $450,  and  by  and  by 
he  will  have  a  home  for  the  dear  mother  and  the  old 
father.    This  was  the  last  letter  from  Wilmington. 

Postage  from  Lexington  to  Wilmington  was  fifty 
cents  for  a  double  letter,  and  fifty  cents  was  a  good 
deal  for  old  John  Andrew,  with  his  large  family  of 
girls. 

We  have  lingered  a  good  long  time  under  the  green 
oaks  along  the  banks  of  Cape  Fear,  but  the  time  for 
leaving  has  come. 

He  found  ninety-two  white  and  over  seven  hundred 
colored  members  on  the  church  record  when  he  came, 
and  he  left  one  hundred  and  seventy-nine  whites  and 
seven  hundred  and  seventy  colored. 

His  Presiding  Elder  for  these  two  years  was  his 
old  friend,  Wm.  M.  Kennedy.  Few  men  ever  labored 
in  the  South  Carolina  Conference  who  did  their  work 
better  than  Billy  Kennedy,  as  the  people  were  pleased 
to  call  him.  He  was  short,  stout,  genial,  full  of  good 
humor,  and  remarkable  for  his  strong  sense.  With 
Lewis  Myers  he  long  stood  at  the  head  of  the  Con- 
ference. In  questions  of  judgment  they  generally 
agreed,  but  sometimes  they  differed.  When  they  did 
the  Conference  generally  sustained  Kennedy.  It 
passed  into  an  adage  that  Brother  Myers  was  nearly 
always  right,  but  Billy  Kennedy  was  never  wrong. 
James  O.  Andrew  owed  him  much,  and  a  loving  heart 
paid  the  debt  to  the  full  as  far  as  love  could  pay  it. 

The  sturdy  Kennedy  died  of  apoplexy,  not  long 
after  his  protege  was  made  a  Bishop.  He  had  mar- 
ried one  of  the  flock  of  James  O.  Andrew  in  Wilming- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


105 


ton,  and  years  after,  the  Bishop  had  the  care  of  Francis 
Milton  Kennedy,  the  noble  son  of  his  first  Presiding 
Elder.  Need  we  wonder  at  the  deep  parental  affection 
he  had  for  that  son  ?  They  are  all  gone  now — and  earth 
is  the  poorer. 

At  the  Conference  he  was  sent  to  Columbia,  S.  C. 
Methodism  in  Colurnbia  was  but  about  twelve  years 
old  when  James  O.  Andrew  followed  William  Capers 
in  charge  of  the  station.  It  had  had  a  hard  struggle 
for  life.  Isaac  Smith  had  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
Church  there,  and  his  brother's  daughters  (one  of  whom 
had  married  John  Veal  and  the  other  John  Bryce),  with 
their  husbands,  were  among  the  first  members  of  the 
society.  Lovick  Pierce,  Reddick  Pierce,  and  Thomas 
Stanley  had  been  among  the  young  preachers.  The 
Church  had  grown  strong  enough  to  build  a  parsonage,, 
such  as  it  was,  and  William  Capers  had  been  dwelling 
in  it  for  two  years.  Capers  was  then  about  twenty-six 
years  of  age.  He  had  entered  the  Conference  in 
1808,  traveled  a  few  years,  located,  buried  the  wife 
of  his  youth,  married  again  and  returned  to  the  field 
to  which  he  believed  God  had  called  him.  Few  men 
could  have  differed  more  than  William  Capers  and 
James  O.  Andrew.  Few  men  loved  each  other  better. 
The  old  Huguenot  blood  was  in  Capers  ;  the  old  Puri- 
tan blood  in  Andrew.  The  father  of  Capers  was  an 
officer  under  Marion  ;  the  father  of  Andrew  a  soldier 
under  Screven.  The  father  of  Capers  became  a  Meth- 
odist, strangely  enough,  and  so  did  the  father  of  An- 
drew ;  but  here  the  parellel  ends. 

Four  years  before  James  O.  Andrew  was  admitted 
on  trial,  William  Capers  began  his  itinerancy.  The 
year  Andrew  was  admitted  into  full  connection,  Capers 
5* 


io6  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

located,  to  remain  nearly  two  years  in  unhappy  re- 
tirement. He  then  began  to  travel  again.  How  dif- 
ferent the  two  men  were  in  look  and  manner.  Andrew 
was  as  rugged  as  a  nugget  of  gold  just  from  the  mine  ; 
Capers  as  elegant  as  the  gold  polished  by  the  hand  of 
an  artificer.  Capers  was  scholarly  in  taste  and  fasti- 
dious in  manner  ;  Andrew  was  bold  in  thought  but 
careless  and  almost  blunt  in  manner.  The  one  was 
the  child  of  wealth  and  luxury,  and  the  most  fashion- 
able and  wealthy  had  been  his  associates  ;  the  other 
was  from  the  people,  born  and  brought  up  in  a  cabin 
in  the  backwoods.  While  Capers  was  in  the  college 
Andrew  was  in  the  corn-field,  and  while  Capers  en- 
tered the  Conference  from  a  college  hall,  the  first  of 
his  Conference  who  had  done  so,  Andrew  came  from 
his  humble  home  without  even  academical  training. 

Capers  was  always  a  popular  preacher,  and  he  had 
filled  the  church  in  Columbia  with  the  most  cultivated 
people  in  the  city,  who  were  drawn  thither,  not  by 
love  for  Methodism,  but  by  curiosity  to  hear  the 
gifted  young  preacher.  And  now,  Andrew,  painfully 
timid — conscious  of  lacking  those  popular  attractions 
which  belonged  to  his  predecessor — feehng  most 
deeply  his  need  of  mental  training,  was  sent  to  take 
his  place.    He  says  in  his  journal : 

I  finished  my  second  year  in  Wilmington  and  left 
there  some  time  in  the  latter  part  of  December  for 
the  Conference,  which  sat  in  Camden.  On  leaving 
Wilmington,  I  feel  grateful  that  God  has  brought  me 
through  another  year,  and  that  I  am  enabled  to  leave 
this  people  in  so  much  peace.  On  the  other  hand,  I 
feel  considerable  pain  at  parting  with  an  affectionate 
people ;  truly,  they  have  been  kind  and  loving  to 


James  Osgood  Andrew.         .  10/ 

me  and  mine  beyond  what  we  had  any  right  to  ex- 
pect. Many  of  them  expressed  considerable  sorrow 
at  parting  with  me,  for  I  have  some  spiritual  children 
in  that  place,  and  my  feeble  efforts  have  been  blessed 
to  the  good  of  some  others  ;  however,  the  Christian's 
hope  is  that  we  shall  meet  again  on  high. 

"  We  reached  Camden.  We  had  only  one  Bishop 
with  us.  Several  members  of  Conference  absent.  A 
number  of  locations.  Not  many  received.  On  the 
whole,  we  have  lost  in  point  of  numbers  among  the 
preachers,  and,  what  is  worse,  we  lose  experience. 
When  shall  we  love  the  work  of  God  so  as  to  be  wil- 
ling to  forego  every  worldly  comfort  for  its  sake  ? 
Lord,  keep  me  near  thy  side.  At  length  the  moment 
so  anxiously  looked  for  arrived.  The  appointments 
were  published ;  my  appointment  was  Columbia,  S. 
C.  ;  I  have  received  it  with  an  aching  heart.  There 
were  several  reasons  combined  to  make  me  feel  seri- 
ous. The  station  is  important.  I  succeed  a  man  of 
popular  talents  ;  and  I  know  not  whether  it  is  pride, 
but  something  whispers  to  me,  '  Your  congregation 
will  fall  off ;  Methodism  will  not  advance  under  your 
administration  as  it  would  under  his.'  But  perhaps 
this  is  a  temptation.  I  will  go  forward,  trusting  in 
the  Lord  ;  if  he  have  sent  me,  he  will  bless  my  labors. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  we  are  here  safe  at  last.  God  has 
blessed  me  with  another  daughter ;  I  am  now  the 
father  of  two  lovely  children,  and  every  member  of 
my  little  family  enjoys  a  fair  share  of  health.  Oh, 
my  God  !  give  me  grace  to  discharge  my  duty  prop- 
erly toward  these  little  ones,  that  they  may  be  raised 
in  the  fear  of  the  Lord. 

**  March  2d,th. — In  the  midst  of  all  my  blessings  I 


io8 


The  Life  ajtd  Letters  of 


find  great  sluggishness,  so  that  I  am  obliged  to  drag 
myself  to  duty.  How  often  does  this  cumbrous  house 
of  clay, seem  to  clog  our  noblest  efforts  of  the  soul! 
Oh,  may  I  reach  that  blessed  country  where  I  shall  be 
clothed  with  an  immortal  spiritual  body  ! 

**  Blessed  be  God !  I  awake  this  morning  from 
slumber  much  invigorated  in  body,  and,  what  is  better, 
when  I  retired  after  breakfast  to  read  and  pray,  I  felt 
considerably  refreshed  and  comforted.  Oh,  my  God  ! 
make  me  clean  in  heart.  Is  not  perfect  love  obtained 
by  simple  faith  ?  Oh,  for  faith,  a  faith  which  em- 
braces all  the  fullness  of  redeeming  mercy.  Lord 
Jesus  !  make  me  holy  altogether. 

Wednesday y  April  lA^th. — This  day  has  been  a 
solemn  one  to  me.  An  awful  sense  of  the  situation  of 
the  society  in  this  place  has  hung  upon  my  mind 
throughout  the  day.  Our  situation  is  indeed  gloomy; 
I  believe  I  might  say  with  propriety  that  there  has 
been  scarcely  a  conversion  among  us  for  two  years. 
How  long,  oh  Lord,  how  long!  Oh,  Head  of  the 
Church,  undertake  for  us.  Thine  arm  alone,  oh.  Lord  ! 
thy  only  arm  can  accomplish  this  work.  Blessed 
Jesus !  our  situation  is  critical,  for  while  we  are  thus 
feeling  a  dreary  winter,  Satan  is  not  idle.  He  is 
marching  victoriously  on  and  destroying  souls  for 
whom  the  Redeemer  died.  It  may  be  that  the  fault 
is  on  me.  Lord,  search  me  and  try  me,  and  if  there 
be  any  evil  way  in  me,  remove  it  far  from  me. 
Lord,  show  us  the  hindrance,  that  we  may  put  it 
from  us.  In  the  course  of  the  day  I  have  been  edi- 
fied by  reading  an  account  of  the  revival  of  the  work 
of  God  in  Albany,  as  well  as  in  other  places  in  the 
North,  particularly  in  reading  Brother  Crawford's 


yamc%  Osgood  Aiidreiv. 


109 


letter.  The  state  of  his  mind  and  his  feelings  on  going 
to  Albany  agree  so  nearly  with  my  own,  that  I  am 
encouraged  to  hope  that  God  will  deign  to  look  in 
compassion  upon  us.  I  endeavored  to  preach  this 
evening  to  a  tolerable  congregation.  I  used  great 
plainness  of  speech,  and  felt  my  soul  greatly  drawn  out 
for  the  salvation  of  people.  Oh,  Lord  !  thou  alone 
canst  give  the  increase." 

On  Sunday,  the  i8th,  he  preached  on  ''Who  is  on 
the  Lord's  side  ?  "  Had  great  liberty  and  a  gracious 
class-meeting  after  service. 

I  am  still  an  unprofitable  servant.  Oh,  that  I  were 
more  holy  ;  then  I  should  be  more  useful.  I  have  not 
enjoyed  myself  to-day  as  I  could  wish  I  had  done. 
I  have  not  had  God  so  constantly  before  me.  Oh  ! 
these  hearts,  how  often  they  wander,  and  how  soon  do 
they  leave  the  good  way,  unless  they  are  constantly 
under  the  cross  of  Jesus  !  What  a  great  need  for  a 
single  eye  ! 

May  3,  1 8 19. — This  day  is  the  anniversary  of  my 
birth.  Twenty-five  years  are  gone  since  I  first  saw 
the  light.  Every  day  in  all  these  years  has  been  full 
of  blessings,  and  I  have  had  many  valuable  talents 
committed  to  my  care  concerning  which  the  Almighty 
has  said  to  me,  *  Occupy  till  I  come.'  I  have  missed 
many  opportunities  of  doing  good.  Oh,  for  a  closer 
walk  with  God  !  Lord,  increase  my  faith  !  It  is  so 
easy  a  matter  for  unbelief  to  assume  the  semblance  of 
humility.  Thus,  sometimes  when  I  have  prayed  for 
the  success  of  my  ministry,  I  have  been  ready  to  say : 
'  Have  I  any  right  to  look  for  the  Divine  blessing  on 
my  imperfect  exertions  ?  '  Not  remembering  that  al- 
though the  instrument  is  clay,  yet  the  word  of  the 


1 10  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Lord  is  perfect — yea,  the  Gospel  is  the  power  of  God 
to  salvation.  Oh,  that  from  this  time  I  may  be  more 
entirely  devoted  to  God.  Oh,  may  I  be  more  wise  to 
win  souls  than  heretofore." 

His  journal  says  that  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year 
there  was  a  tolerable  revival  of  religion. 

It  is  very  evident  that  the  year  in  Columbia  was  a 
trying  one.  He  came  out  of  a  large,  warm,  loving 
church  to  preach  among  strangers,  where  the  church 
was  small  in  numbers,  and  where  his  labor  seemed  to 
be  largely  in  vain.  His  journal  does  not  mention  the 
character  of  his  afflictions,  but  says  they  were  severe. 

The  reminiscences  say : 

"  And  now  a  glance  at  the  parsonage.  It  was  a 
one-story  house,  unpainted,  with  two  small  rooms  and 
one  tolerably  large  one.  The  furnishings  consisted  of 
two  beds  and  bedsteads  of  the  plainest  material  ;  a 
table,  the  necessary  supply  of  furniture  therefor  ;  and 
our  parlor  furniture  consisted  of  some  four  or  six  very 
common  chairs  and  two  or  three  long  benches.  It  is  but 
justice,  however,  to  admit  that  in  the  course  of  the 
year  the  good  sisters  added  considerably  to  our  outfit ; 
and  it  may  be  well,  also,  to  say  that  having  a  pastor 
who  was  married  was  rather  new,  as  I  was  the  second 
married  preacher  that  had  been  on  the  station.  Some 
time  ago  I  was  in  Columbia,  and  dined  in  a  handsome, 
commodious  parsonage,  well  furnished,  and  all  its 
apartments  good  enough  for  a  prince.  I  thought  of  days 
of  yore,  and  looked  across  the  street  for  my  old  ac- 
quaintance, but  the  place  thereof  knew  it  no  more. 
After  a  few  weeks  I  went  down  to  Charleston  and 
brought  up  my  wife  and  two  little  girls,  for  my  AmeHa 
had  presented  me  with  a  second  blessing,  my  sweet 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


Ill 


little  Mary,  whom  the  Good  Shepherd  took  to  his  fold 
above,  a  few  years  after,  in  the  city  of  Savannah.  We 
jogged  on  pleasantly  through  the  year.  We  had  sonae 
troubles,  but  why  talk  of  them  ?  Everybody  has  had 
their  own,  and  will  feel  but  little  interest  in  listening  to 
the  recital  of  my  trials,  temptations,  and  conflicts  of 
thirty  years'  standing.  Upon  the  whole  I  had  a 
pleasant  year,  and  witnessed  some  prosperity  in  the 
Church.  We  had  a  comfortable  revival  during  the 
year,  in  which  a  goodly  number  were  gathered  into 
the  Church,  and  we  had  generally  peace  and  pros- 
perity." 

There  is  only  one  letter  from  him  during  this  year 
which  is  preserved.  It  is  to  his  father,  and  is  beauti- 
fully illustrative  both  of  his  filial  affection  and  of  his 
stern  adherence  to  duty : 

"Columbia,  S.  C,  Septembers,  1819. 

**My  Beloved  Father: 

When  I  wrote  you  last  I  expected  before  this  time 
to  have  been  on  my  way  to  Georgia,  instead  of  which 
I  am  still  in  Columbia,  and  see  no  prospect  of  visiting 
you  in  less  than  three  months.  The  cause  of  my  dis- 
appointment is  this  :  when  I  last  wrote  to  you  I  had 
consulted  my  Presiding  Elder  on  the  propriety  of  go- 
ing to  Georgia  and  returning  to  my  station  previous 
to  Conference.  He  agreed  to  my  proposal  on  condi- 
tion that  he  should  be  able  to  find  a  preacher  to  fill 
my  place  during  my  absence,  and  he  thought  at  that 
time  he  should  be  able  to  succeed  in  this  plan,  but 
when  he  had  gone  round  his  district  he  was  disap- 
pointed in  his  expectation  ;  no  substitute  could  be 
procured,  and  there  remained  no  other  alternative 


112 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


than  for  my  station  to  be  left  destitute  during  my  ab- 
sence, or  else  I  must  procrastinate  my  visit  until  De- 
cember. Here  was  a  conflict  in  my  mind  between 
inclination  and  duty.  I  have,  however,  at  length  re- 
solved to  regard  the  interests  of  the  Church  first,  and, 
rather  than  leave  the  station  alone  in  its  present  situ- 
ation, have  determined  to  remain  at  my  post  a  while 
longer.  This  is  painful  to  me,  and  I  anticipate  your 
disappointment  in  receiving  a  letter  instead  of  your 
children ;  but  I  believe  that  both  my  mother  and  your- 
self love  God  well  enough  to  approve  my  conduct. 
Myself  and  my  family  are  in  tolerable  health  at  pres- 
ent, and  the  town  is  healthy  to  a  considerable  degree. 
Our  religious  prospects  are  encouraging  at  present. 
We  have  had  a  camp-meeting  near  this  place,  which 
was  greatly  blessed  to  our  congregation  here.  Since 
the  camp-meeting,  which  has  been  a  little  more  than 
a  week,  twenty-seven  whites  have  joined  the  society, 
and  the  work  appears  to  be  still  going  on.  Glory  to 
God  for  his  goodness  to  us  !  Never,  my  dear  father, 
did  I  labor  on  a  station  with  greater  despondency  than 
I  have  done  in  this  for  the  preceding  part  of  the  year. 
I  despaired  of  seeing  fruit;  but  God  has  exceeded  my 
most  sanguine  expectations.  Oh,  that  the  work  may 
go  on  !  Help  us  by  your  prayers.  I  rejoice  to  hear 
that  you  have  entered  again  into  the  ministry.  I 
hope  God  will  make  you  more  abundantly  useful  in 
your  old  age.  There  have  been  numerous  revivals 
among  the  Methodists  in  the  Western  County.  The 
last  has  been  a  year  of  considerable  increase  through- 
out the  United  States.  We  have  added  eleven  thou- 
sand two  hundred  and  ninety-seven,  so  that  God  is 
carrying  on  his  work  among  us.    May  the  number  be 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  113 


yet  enlarged.  We  expect,  God  willing,  to  leave 
Columbia  for  Georgia  about  December  13th.  My 
wife  unites  with  me  in  love  to  you  all. 

I  am  your  affectionate  son, 

''James  O.  Andrew.'* 

This  letter  was  followed  in  two  months  by  his  visit 
to  his  parents,  who  were  then  living  in  Oglethorpe 
County.  It  was  not  far  from  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles,  over  the  roughest  hills  of  middle  Georgia.  The 
stay  must  needs  have  been  brief,  but  he  never  failed 
to  visit  the  dear  old  people  every  year  if  he  could  pos- 
sibly do  so. 

From  Oglethorpe  to  Charleston,  nearly  three  hun- 
dred miles,  he  went  with  his  good  Amelia  to  the  Con- 
ference, which  met  in  that  city,  and  received  from 
Bishop  George  his  appointment  to  Augusta,  in 
Georgia. 

During  the  seven  years  he  had  been  in  the  ministry 
he  had  only  spent  one  of  them  in  the  State  of  his  birth, 
the  one  on  the  Warren  Circuit,  five  years  before.  He 
had  developed  wonderfully  as  a  preacher  in  these  five 
years.  Four  sermons  every  week  on  a  station  and 
six  on  a  circuit  made  a  preacher  as  no  other  school 
could  make  one.  The  young  man  had  not  been  idle  ; 
he  had  read  much  and  thought  more.  He  had  had 
limited  but  accurate  training  in  his  father's  school- 
room. He  had  married  a  woman  of  very  exact  cul- 
ture. He  had  been  thrown  with  the  best  Southern 
people,  and  he  had  withal  a  mind  of  very  remarkable 
character.  He  was  an  orator  born.  His  soul  was 
on  fire  to  save  men  ;  he  had  a  heart  full  of  love — full 
of  faith  and  the  Holy  Spirit.    He  was  now  welcomed 


114 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


into  every  pulpit.  He  came  to  Augusta,  however,  at  a 
trying  time.  They  had  never  had  before  this  a  married 
preacher  sent  to  them.  The  year  before,  while  Henry 
Bass  was  on  the  station,  he  had  married,  and  as  the 
Church  was  greatly  strengthened  by  the  revival  of 
the  year,  he  had  projected  and  built  a  parsonage,  the 
first  in  the  State.  It  was,  however,  not  paid  for,  and 
Andrew  was  sent  to  occupy  it.  When  he  reached 
Augusta  he  found  the  little  four-roomed  house  rented 
out  to  pay  a  debt  which  was  over  it. 

Methodism  in  Augusta  was  now  twenty  years  old. 
In  1799,  Stith  Mead,  who  was  visiting  there,  established 
the  first  Methodist  Society,  and,  indeed,  the  first  or- 
ganized church  of  any  kind.  An  Episcopal  church 
had  been  erected  as  early  as  1757.  It  was  burned 
down,  and  a  church  was  built  which  was  used  by  all 
the  denominations,  but  belonged  to  the  Episcopalians. 
Stith  Mead  organized  the  Methodist  Society,  and  in 
1800  he  began  to  build  the  church  which  Bishop  An- 
drew describes.  It  was  then  on  the  common.  The 
lot  was  a  large  one,  and  on  it  a  little  four-roomed  cot- 
tage was  now  placed  as  a  parsonage.  The  society 
was,  after  many  vicissitudes,  a  little  over  one  hundred 
strong.  They  were,  for  the  first  time,  to  support  a 
married  preacher.  It  is  always  a  trying  time  to  a  sta- 
tion or  a  circuit  when  it  finds  itself  in  this  condition. 
Single  men  of  ability,  cultivation,  and  experience,  or 
men  just  married,  are  always  in  demand  by  such 
charges,  and  the  demand  very  generally  exceeds  the 
supply.  The  parsonage  was  finished,  it  was  true, 
but  it  was  not  paid  for.  It  was  evident  that  the 
Church  expected  Brother  Hodges  to  send  them  a 
single  man  for  this  year  of  1820,  and  then  they  could 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


support  him,  and  the  debt  on  the  parsonage  could 
be  paid  by  renting-  it  out.  Official  boards  have  often 
been  deluded  by  the  idea  that  the  preacher  who 
costs  the  least  money  is  the  easiest  man  to  support, 
and  that  the  quickest  way  to  get  out  of  debt  is  to 
reduce  expenses  by  getting  a  cheap  preacher;  but 
Samuel  K.  Hodges,  the  sagacious  Presiding  Elder, 
knew  better  than  that,  so,  instead  of  a  single  man  and 
a  cheap  preacher,  he  sent  James  O.  Andrew,  with  his 
wife  and  two  children.  Andrew  drew  large  congrega- 
tions and  was  much  admired,  but  he  says  in  his  jour- 
nal his  trials  were  not  a  few.  His  support  was  scanty, 
his  family  was .  growing,  his  father  and  mother  de- 
manded his  care,  he  had  already  continued  in  the 
traveling  connection  longer  than  most  who  had  mar- 
ried, and  he  resolved  to  locate. 

He  would  study  medicine,  practice,  and  preach,  and, 
while  doing  good  work  for  the  Church,  take  care  of 
those  dependent  on  him.  He  had  settled  it — he  would 
locate ;  but  he  did  not,  for  the  good  Amelia  would  not 
consent.  He  should  travel  on  if  she  had  her  will,  and 
if  he  needed  help  she  would  help  him.  She  knew  how 
to  work  and  work  she  would  ;  he  must  not,  should  not 
leave  the  field,  so  he  staid  on  his  post. 

Samuel  K.  Hodges,  who  entered  the  Conference  with 
Andrew,  was  his  Presiding  Elder.  He  saw  the  neces- 
sity of  giving  to  the  two  leading  stations.  Savannah 
and  Augusta,  men  able  to  do  the  work,  and  he  placed 
William  Capers  in  Savannah  and  James  O.  Andrew  in 
Augusta. 

The  General  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Baltimore 
in  May,  and  at  the  same  Conference  at  which  he  was 
appointed  to  Augusta  he  was  elected  a  delegate  to 


ii6  The  Life  and  Letter's  of 

the  General  Conference.  He  was  quite  young,  only 
twenty-seven,  and  had  never  been  on  a  district,  and 
the  compUment  conferred  shows  how  high  was  the 
estimation  in  which  he  was  held.  There  were  ten  dele- 
gates. Three  of  these,  Samuel  K.  Hodges,  William 
Capers,  and  James  O.  Andrew,  were  young  men  ;  the 
others  were  among  the  oldest  of  the  body.  The  Gen- 
eral Conference  met  in  Baltimore,  and  for  the  first  time 
Mr.  Andrew  went  North.  He  tells  of  how  he  got  there, 
in  giving  an  account  of  the  Conference.  On  horseback 
to  Petersburg,  Va.,  from  thence,  by  way  of  City  Point, 
to  Baltimore.  He  found  himself  a  member  of  the 
General  Conference  and  in  one  of  its  most  memorable 
sessions. 

He  possessed  rare  skill  as  a  word  painter,  and  he 
gives  a  graphic  picture  of  the  body  as  it  appeared  in 
the  famous  debate  on  the  Presiding  Elder  question. 
Jimmy  Axley,  William  Winans,  and  Joshua  Soule  were 
fine  subjects  for  a  painter's  pencil,  and  he  draws  a  vivid 
picture  of  them. 

We  have  anticipated  a  little ;  we  return  to  the  rem- 
iniscences : 

Of  the  doings  of  the  General  Conference  I  cannot 
pretend  to  give  anything  even  like  a  bird's-eye  view. 
It  was  a  dignified  and  imposing  assembly,  and  as  I  sat 
and  surveyed  the  company  of  grave  and  reverend  men 
before  me,  I  felt  myself  rather  a  small  man.  Now,  I 
don't  like  to  praise  myself,  but  the  fact  is,  I  behaved 
very  well ;  sat,  and  looked,  and  listened,  and  had  too 
much  sense  to  attempt  to  make  a  speech,  though  I  was 
always  at  my  post  when  the  vote  was  taken.  The 
great  subject  of  discussion  was  to  make  the  Presiding 
Elders  elective.    This  question  brought  out  a  pretty 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


117 


good  display  of  eloquence  on  both  sides ;  the  dele- 
gates from  the  Northern  and  some  of  the  middle  Con- 
ferences going  might  and  main  for  the  change,  and 
those  from  the  West  and  South  standing  up  for  the 
established  order  of  things. 

"  The  discussion  brought  to  my  ears  some  strange 
things.  I  had  been  taught  to  love  Methodism  from 
my  childhood,  and  had  great  respect  for  the  Epis- 
copal office  and  a  high  admiration  for  the  venera- 
ble men  who  filled  it,  and  had  never  dreamed  that 
half  the  dreadful  things  could  by  any  possibility  be 
conjured  up  in  connection  with  the  working  of  its 
machinery  which  I  heard  from  the  lips  of  orators  on 
that  occasion.  These  startling  announcements,  coming 
from  men  of  great  note  in  the  itinerant  ranks,  quite  as- 
tounded me.  The  power  of  the  Bishops  was  fearful ; 
the  existing  system  was  anti-republican — smacked  of 
popery — in  short,  the  rights  of  traveling  preachers  de- 
manded a  change,  and  ruin  must  come  if  the  change 
was  not  made. 

*'  To  be  sure,  Methodism  was  doing  well — very  well. 
It  was  sweeping  over  the  land  with  almost  resistless 
force ;  but  still  the  touch  of  ruin  was  upon  us  if 
we  did  not  stay  the  hand  of  despotism  by  curtail- 
ing the  power  of  the  Bishops.  Certainly  the  present 
incumbents  of  the  Episcopal  bench  were  good  men 
and  true,  and  perhaps  not  much  danger  was  to  be  ap- 
prehended while  they  lived  ;  but  then  they  might  be 
succeeded  by  ambitious  men,  who,  being  in  possession 
of  such  tremendous  power,  might  take  it  into  their 
heads  to  act  the  tyrant.  This  feature  in  the  discussion 
struck  me  with  much  force.  All  admitted  that  the 
present  operation  was  good  enough  ;  but  we  must  look 


ii8  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

ahead  and  secure  our  posterity  from  trouble.  Now, 
for  myself  I  felt  very  much  inclined  to  let  alone  that 
which  was  operating  favorably,  and  let  our  posterity,  if 
necessary,  make  such  changes  as  their  circumstances 
might  demand,  seeing  they  would  be  just  as  competent 
as  their  fathers  to  change  the  system  if  judged  neces- 
sary. 

I  had  supposed  then,  and  my  opinions  have  un- 
dergone no  change,  that  the  system  of  itinerant  Meth- 
odism was  founded  on  the  principles  of  mutual  sac- 
rifice'on  the  part  of  both  preachers  and  people,  and 
I  am  very  much  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  if  the 
itinerant  preachers  had  so  acted  as  to  secure  in  the 
minds  of  their  people  the  conviction  that  they  sought 
not  their  own  accommodation,  but  the  great  inter- 
ests of  the  Church,  and  that  they  were  willing  and 
ready  to  take  their  part  in  the  sacrifice,  we  should 
have  had  fewer  reform  bills  among  us.  But  when 
the  people  saw  that  the  General  Conference  was 
disposed  to  guard  the  rights  of  the  preachers,  re- 
lieving them  of  a  large  part  of  the  sacrifice  under- 
stood in  the  original  compact,  they  began  to  in- 
quire into  the  expediency  of  seeking  relief  from  a 
part  of  the  sacrifices  which  they  were  expected  to 
make.  With  these  views,  whether  right  or  wrong,  I 
was  not  greatly  surprised  at  the  subsequent  reform 
movements  which  took  place  in  Baltimore  and  else- 
where. I  have  always  believed  that  the  discussions 
of  the  General  Conference  on  that  occasion  gave  a 
mighty  impulse  to  the  movement  which  resulted  in 
the  sad  disruption  of  the  Church  which  followed. 
The  orators  in  favor  of  change  had  proclaimed  to  the 
world  that  our  system  was  rotten.    Indeed,  it  was 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


119 


shrewdly  discovered  that  we  had  no  constitution,  no 
organic  law  in  our  system.  No  wonder  dissatisfied 
spirits,  acting  on  such  high  authority,  set  themselves 
to  pull  down  the  old  building  whose  rottenness  was 
announced  in  such  bold  and  commanding  terms,  in 
order  that  they  might  rebuild  it  according  to  the  im- 
proved style  of  modern  ecclesiastical  architecture. 

**The  Presiding  Elder  question  was  the  all-engross- 
ing subject  of  the  session.  Finally,  when  it  was  suf- 
ficiently obvious  that  the  original  resolution  would 
not  pass  the  Conference,  a  proposition  was  made,  I 
think  by  E,  Cooper,  from  Philadelphia,  that  a  com- 
mittee be  appointed  from  both  parties  to  meet  and 
consult  with  a  view  to  harmonizing  the  Conference  in 
the  settlement  of  the  question  before  us.  This  move- 
ment succeeded.  The  committee  was  appointed,  and 
in  due  time  presented  their  report,  which,  as  well  as  I 
recollect,  modified  the  original  so  as  to  give  the  An- 
nual Conferences  the  right  to  nominate  a  certain  num- 
ber, out  of  which  number  the  Bishops  should  be 
obliged  to  select  the  Elders  to  be  appointed.  This 
report  was  introduced  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets. 
It  was  agreed  to  by  all  parties  of  the  committee,  not 
that  it  exactly  suited  either  side,  but  then  they  had 
mutually  agreed  each  to  surrender  a  little,  that  we 
might  once  more  see  eye  to  eye  as  brethren,  and  thus 
give  to  the  Church  and  the  world  a  glorious  example 
of  the  way  in  which  Methodist  preachers  managed  to 
bury  the  tomahawk.  Several  glorification  speeches 
were  made  over  the  report,  and  almost  the  whole 
Conference  seemed  to  rejoice  in  the  prospect  of  unity 
which  had  dawned  upon  us.  There  were  a  few  of  us, 
however,  who  doubted,  and  thought  we  saw  in  this 


120 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


peace  measure  a  full  surrender  of  the  great  principle 
at  stake.  To  us  it  seemed  that  the  North  had  gained 
all  they  as^ed ;  consequently,  though  in  a  hopeless 
minority,  we  voted  against  the  report,  for  which  we 
were  no  little  jeered  by  our  colleagues.  One  circum- 
stance I  may  not  omit.  Pending  the  discussion  on 
the  report,  a  plain  man,  dressed  in  the  ancient  cos- 
tume of  a  Methodist  preacher,  was  seen  to  walk  de- 
liberately up  to  the  Secretary's  table.  All  eyes  were 
turned  toward  him  as  he  stood  for  a  few  moments  ex- 
amining the  report.  When  he  had  satisfied  himself, 
he  turned  to  the  Conference  and  exclaimed  in  a  loud 
voice,  'Brethren,  it's  nothing  but  a  trick.'  He  then 
resumed  his  seat.  But  that  brief  speech  awakened 
a  perfect  outburst  of  indignant  remonstrance  from  all 
parts  of  the  house.  I  recollect  that  our  friend  Cooper 
was  particularly  eloquent,  and  exasperated  that  such  a 
damaging  insinuation  should  be  made  as  to  the  mo- 
tives of  the  dear  and  honored  brethren  who  had  pre- 
sented this  glorious  peace  measure,  and  that  any 
brother  should  have  attempted  to  throw  such  a  fire- 
brand into  the  Conference  just  at  the  moment  when 
all  was  about  to  be  peace  and  love.  But  all  this  elo- 
quence was  thrown  away  upon  James  Axley,  who 
witnessed  the  thunder  and  lightning  which  his  speech 
had  called  forth  with  the  most  perfect  unconcern, 
and  who  in  less  than  two  days  found  that  there  were 
not  a  few  who  thought  with  him. 

''It  was  supposed  that  now  we  had  settled  the  great 
question  we  might  go  on  with  other  business  in  peace  ; 
but  peace  was  not  yet.  During  the  evening  there 
was  no  little  discussion  in  private  circles  as  to  the  doc- 
trine of  Axley's  speech,  so  that  the  members  from  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  12 1 

• 

West  and  South  were,  in  a  great  measure,  prepared  for 
the  events  of  the  next  morning.  I  should  have  re- 
marked before  that  Joshua  Soule  had  been  elected  to 
the  Episcopal  office  a  day  or  two  previous,  but  had 
not  as  yet  signified  his  acceptance.  The  next  morn- 
ing, when  the  Conference  opened,  a  paper  was  laid  on 
the  Secretary's  table  from  Mr.  Soule,  stating  that  he 
could  not,  consistently  with  his  views  of  constitutional 
Methodism,  act  with  conformity  to  the  resolutions 
adopted  the  previous  day,  as  he  regarded  them  an  in- 
fringement on  fundamental,  constitutional  principles 
of  Methodist  Episcopacy  as  received  from  our  fathers, 
and,  consequently,  declined  to  accept  the  office  of 
Bishop  to  which  he  had  been  elected.  This  announce- 
ment was  unexpected,  but  it  created  a  powerful  sen- 
sation in  the  house,  and  we  were  favored  with  not  a 
few  bold  and  eloquent  attacks  on  the  Bishop-elect. 
He  was  charged  with  breaking  up  the  peace  and 
harmony  of  the  Conference,  which  only  the  day  before 
had  been  so  happily  established,  and  presuming  by 
his  single  arm  to  nullify  the  grave  and  well-considered 
action  of  the  whole  General  Assembly  ;  and,  of  course, 
many  felt  that  it  was  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be 
wished  to  keep  him  out  of  the  Episcopal  office.  But 
the  object  of  their  denunciations  remained  perfectly 
calm,  as  though  all  was  sunshine  and  May  around  him. 
After  the  shower  of  arrows  had  pretty  well  spent  it- 
self, he  arose,  and  with  great  calmness  and  dignity 
replied  to  his  opponents  in  a  speech,  strong,  clear, 
bold,  and  in  fine  temper  and  spirit.  A  part  of  that 
speech  I  shall  never  forget.  'Why,'  said  he,  '  should 
I  desire  the  Episcopal  office  in  our  Church  ?  In  its 
present  circumstances,  from  the  moment  of  my  con- 


122  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


secration  I  should  have  to  regard  my  wife  a  widow 
and  my  children  fatherless.  No,  sir,  the  office  of 
Bishop  in  ^  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  has  no 
charm  for  me.' 

This  speech,  together  with  one  from  Bishop  Mc- 
Kendree,  setting  forth  his  views  of  the  unconstitution- 
ality of  the  compromise  resolutions,  produced  quite  a 
fluttering  among  the  Western  and  Southern  men,  sev- 
eral of  whom  began  to  feel  that  they  had  got  into 
the  wrong  pew ;  but  how  to  get  back  was  the  ques- 
tion. To  be  sure,  a  majority  of  the  Conference  was 
prepared  to  reconsider  its  acts,  but  then  could  it  even 
be  brought  to  a  vote  ?  The  compromise  men,  seeing 
they  were  about  to  lose  their  victory,  it  was  under- 
stood had  resolved  to  break  the  quorum  of  the  house 
whenever  a  movement  to  reconsider  was  made. 

What  was  now  to  be  done  ?  We  were  in  a  diffi- 
culty ;  but  then  we  could  not  stay  there.  We  had  a 
man  among  us,  bold  in  plan  and  execution,  and  fruit- 
ful of  resources.  It  was  very  hard  to  get  him  in  a 
tight  place,  and  still  harder  to  keep  him  there. 
Straightforward  in  his  course,  he  could,  upon  occa- 
sion, play  pretty  deeply  at  the  game  of  management, 
and  if  his  opponents  were  forgetful  of  courtesy  and 
delicacy,  why,  then,  he  seemed  to  adopt  the  maxim 
that  it  was  proper  to  fight  them  with  their  own 
weapons.  He  undertook  to  lead  us  safely  through 
the  difficulty.  He  drew  up  -a  set  of  resolutions,  sus- 
pending the  new  Presiding  Elder  law  till  the  next 
General  Conference.  To  these  resolutions  he  ob- 
tained the  signatures  of  a  majority  of  the  members  of 
the  Conference,  and  when  a  motion  was  made  to  re- 
consider he  stated  to  the  Conference  that  he  had  un- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


123 


derstood  that  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  friends  of  the 
new  law  to  break  the  quorum.  He  then  warned  them 
that  nothing  would  be  gained  by  such  a  movement, 
*  for,'  said  he,  holding  up  the  paper,  *  I  have  here  the 
names  of  a  majority  of  the  delegates,  and  should  you 
act  in  the  manner  threatened,  we  shall  record  these 
resolutions  as  the  decision  of  the  majority.' 

I  don't  recollect  all  the  minor  details  of  this  affair. 
I  know,  however,  that  the  new  Presiding  Elder  law 
was  suspended  in  its  operations  for  four  years ;  that  in 
1824  some  attempt  was  made  to  galvanize  it  into  life, 
but  the  battery  was  not  sufficiently  powerful,  and  the 
thing  remained  in  a  torpor  for  four  years  more  ;  and 
in  the  General  Conference  of  1828,  held  at  Pittsburg, 
it  received  not  even  a  Christian  burial.  The  carcass 
had  been  so  long  dead  that  its  odor  became  offensive  to 
some  of  its  former  devoted  friends,  and  it  was  thrown 
overboard  without  even  reading  the  burial  service 
over  it. 

"  And  now,  before  we  leave  this  subject,  it  may  not 
be  uninteresting  to  give  a  sketch  of  some  of  the 
prominent  actors  in  this  scene  as  we  remember  them. 
The  most  prominent  man  on  the  side  of  changing  the 
rule  was  James  Smith — a  man  of  rather  fine  appear- 
ance, bold  and  fluent  as  a  speaker  ;  a  man  of  consider- 
able intelligence,  but  given  greatly  to  speculation. 
He  could  pull  down  without  any  difficulty,  but  build- 
ing up  required  rather  more  of  practical  skill  than 
he  possessed.  As  a  man,  I  should  judge  that  he  was 
quite  estimable,  and  was  influenced  by  high  and 
gracious  impulses.  And  then  there  was  our  estimable 
friend,  H.  Bangs,  whose  praise  is  in  all  the  churches, 
and  the  venerable  Ezekiel  Cooper,  whose  long  expe- 


124 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


rience  and  acquaintance  with  Methodism  gave  him 
great  weight  in  the  Conference.  Shrewd  and  far- 
seeing,  he  was  rather  an  ugly  customer  for  a  hasty 
opponent.  From  Baltimore  there  was  John  Efnory, 
a  poHshed  speaker,  clear-headed  and  logical,  and  Al- 
fred Griffith,  and  the  venerable,  eloquent,  and  warm- 
hearted William  Ryland,  who  threw  his  whole  soul 
into  every  speech  he  made,  no  matter  what  the  sub- 
ject. From  New  England,  the  accompUshed  and 
sweet-spirited  Fisk,  who  looked  then  as  if  he  could 
not  remain  very  long  on  earth,  though  he  lived  and 
labored  for  many  years  after ;  George  Pickering,  ven- 
erable in  years  and  long  and  faithful  services  to  the 
Church  ;  Elijah  Hedding,  who  was  four  years  later 
raised  to  the  Episcopal  office,  which  he  honored  so 
long  by  the  sanctity  of  his  life  and  the  faithful  and 
intelligent  performance  of  his  high  and  holy  duties  ; 
Dr.  Timothy  Merritt,  who  wrote  a  book  on  '  Sancti- 
fication,'  and  who  used  to  deliver  lectures  to  the 
General  Conference  on  the  same  subject.  We  might 
mention  many  others,  but  cannot  in  this  brief  sketch. 
But  we  must  not  omit  the  name  of  a  little  bald-headed 
man  from  New  York,  who  occupied  a  very  prominent 
position  during  the  whole  of  this  struggle.  None  who 
were  present  at  that  and  several  succeeding  General 
Conferences  can  fail  to  remember  Daniel  Ostrander, 
rather  slow  of  speech,  cool  and  self-possessed,  and  a 
man  of  kind  spirit,  though  he  dealt  his  opponents  some 
heavy  blows.  He  was  an  estimable  man,  and  adhered 
to  the  fortunes  of  his  favorite  scheme  when  almost 
everybody  else  had  deserted  it. 

On  the  other  side  there  were  Joshua  Soule,  himself 
a  host  ;  old  Stephen  G.  Roszell,  of  whom  we  have  al- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


12$ 


ready  spoken,  a  man  of  strong  original  powers,  bold 
and  decided  in^  all  his  movements — rather  a  hard 
hand  to  manage  in  a  controversy.  From  South  Caro- 
lina, W.  Capers,  Dunwody,  Kennedy,  and  my  old 
friend  Lewis  Myers.  From  Virginia,  H.  Leigh,  T. 
Crowder;  I  believe  John  Early  was  not  a  member 
of  that  Conference.  From  the  West  we  had  Finley 
and  Q.uinn  and  the  two  Youngs  ;  and  from  Tennes- 
see my  good  old  friend  T.  L.  Douglas,  McMahon, 
and  others  whose  names  I  do  not  now  recollect. 
But  there  was  another  from  the  West,  whose  debut  ^ 
made  a  more  profound  impression  on  the  Conference 
than  anything  which  occurred  during  the  debate.  A 
slender  and  rather  rough-looking  man  arose  to  speak. 
He  was  plainly  clad,  wore  no  cravat,  and  his  whole 
appearance  indicated  that  he  paid  no  undue  attention 
to  the  dress  of  the  outer  man  ;  and  then  his  manner 
was  rather  awkward.  '  Who's  that  ?  '  was  whispered 
all  around,  and  it  was  obvious  from  the  actions  of 
the  members  that  not  much  was  expected  ;  but  be- 
fore he  had  spoken  five  minutes  heads  were  up,  and 
all  eyes  were  directed  toward  the  speaker,  who  soon 
proved  himself  fully  equal  to  the  task  he  had  under- 
taken. He  was  listened  to  with  profound  attention, 
and  when  he  closed,  James  Smith  was  the  first  who 
pressed  up  to  give  him  a  cordial  shake  of  the  hand, 
and  offer  his  congratulations  upon  the  speech  just  de- 
livered. This  was  the  first  appearance  of  William 
Winans  before  the  General  Conference,  and  it  estab- 
lished beyond  contingency  his  claim  to  talents  of  the 
first  order. 

"  There  is  one  more  point  connected  with  this  his- 
tory to  which  we  will  briefly  advert  before  we  close. 


126 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


It  will  be  seen  by  reference  to  preceding  remarks  that 
the  Baltimore  Conference  was  divided  on  the  Presid- 
ing Elder  question.  Emory,  Waugh,  Griffith,  Morgan, 
and  possibly  some  others  went  heartily  for  the  change. 
Soule,  Roszell,  and  some  others  opposed  it.  Some 
time  after  the  General  Conference  the  first-named 
brethren  judged  it  proper  to  publish  a  pamphlet,  ex- 
plaining to  their  constituents  their  course  and  the 
reasons  for  it.  In  this  tract  Mr.  Soule  was  thought  to 
be  pretty  strongly  assailed,  and  it  is  said  that  strenuous 
*  efforts  were  made  to  keep  him  out  of  the  next  General 
Conference.  These  efforts,  however,  failed  signally, 
and  Mr.  Soule  and  his  friends  were  elected  by  a  tri- 
umphant majority,  and  were  in  their  places  at  the  next 
session.  On  the  great  question  about  which  we  have 
said  so  much  the  Bishops  were  divided  :  McKen- 
dree's  position  we  have  already  stated  ;  Roberts  and 
George  were  understood  to  favor  the  change." 

After  an  absence  of  about  two  months  he  returned 
to  Augusta.  His  home  during  the  year  was  with 
Asaph  Waterman.  He  says  in  his  journal  of  this 
year : 

We  had  some  little  revival  toward  the  close  of  the 
year.  I  was  reappointed  to  Augusta,  and  through 
intolerable  roads  and  weather  returned  with  my  whole 
family ;  found  some  glad  and  some  sorry  that  I  had 
returned.  However,  they  are  obliged  to  take  me  for 
better  or  worse.  Lord  bless  me  and  bless  the  people, 
that  we  may  all  yet  rejoice  together.  God  has  in 
good  degree  blessed  my  labors  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year.  Up  to  August  7th  we  have  joined  twenty- 
seven,  but  we  have  lost  a  goodly  number  of  the  fruits 
of  former  years.    The  society  is  not  in  so  good  a 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  127 


state  as  I  wish  to  see.  There  is  too  much  worldly 
spirit  among  its  members,  and  too  much  evil  speaking 
and  tattling.    Good  Lord,  appear  for  our  help. 

"  August  7,  1 82 1. — I  am  still  engaged  trying  to  do 
good  ;  but,  alas  !  how  little  it  is  that  I  do  for  God ; 
what  small  advancement  have  I  made  in  knowledge, 
in  faith,  in  love.  Oh,  for  a  closer  walk  with  God  ! 
At  night  attended  a  prayer-meeting  ;  had  rather  a 
sluggish  time.  I  have  been  reading  to-day  *  Asbury's 
Journal'  and  *  Harmer's  Observations.' 

"Brother  Hodges  arrived  from  the  Burke  camp- 
meeting  so  much  fatigued  as  to  be  unable  to  preach 
well ;  I  had  to  occupy  the  pulpit. 

Thursday y  gth. — Still  indisposed,  yet  I  have 
reason  to  be  thankful,  for  God  is  good  notwithstand- 
ing all  ray  unfaithfulness.  Alas  !  how  unfaithful  and 
how  useless  am  I  in  the  Church  of  God  !  Oh,  for 
more  knowledge,  holiness,  and  usefulness  !  " 

So  the  young  preacher  wrote  about  himself.  If  he 
had  not  been  so  faithful  he  would  not  have  felt  that  he 
was  so  unfaithful.  It  is  only  when  men  rise  high 
enough  to  see  what  is  the  highest  that  they  realize  how 
far  they  are  below  it.  Dissatisf action says  Vinet, 
"is  the  parent  of  progress  ;  "  self-complacency  is  its 
deadly  foe.  Although  writing  these  honest  things 
against  himself,  he  does  not  fail  to  add  that  "  God  is 
good."  He  blesses  still.  He  did  not  have  time  to 
brood.  When  he  felt  like  brooding  he  went  out  and 
led  a  class-meeting. 

He  read  "  The  Conquest  of  Mexico."  He  says  of 
the  book  :  "I  have  been  reading  an  account  of  the 
conquest  of  Mexico  by  the  ferocious  Spaniard  Cortez. 
How  completely  does  the  love  of  money  and  the 


128 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


thirst  for  military  glory  obliterate  from  man  all  the 
finer  feelings  of  humanity  and  religion ;  and  as  we 
read  the  history  of  the  world,  do  we  not  see  fresh 
proofs  that  the  march  of  justice,  though  slow,  is  cer- 
tain ?  Let  us  look  back  a  few  centuries  and  witness 
the  cruelty  of  the  Spaniard  to  the  unoffending  and 
ignorant  inhabitants  of  Mexico  and  Peru.  Let  us  turn 
our  eyes,  then,  to  the  present  state  of  South  Amer- 
ica. Let  us  see  her  once  lovely  plains  stained  with 
constantly  succeeding  torrents  of  the  blood  of  the  de- 
scendants of  these  same  Spaniards.  Surely  there  is  a 
God  of  Justice  !'*  RoUin,  Harmer,  "  The  History  of 
Peru  and  Mexico,"  give  us  some  little  insight  into  the 
character  of  his  readings.  He  was  never,  perhaps, 
what  men  call  a  careful  student.  He  did  not  study 
grammars,  and  lexicons,  and  treatises  on  logic  or 
physical  science,  nor  was  he,  perhaps,  a  profound 
theologian.  He  had  little  interest  in  the  interminable 
word-battles  of  schoolmen,  but  he  studied  books  and 
he  studied  men.  When  he  read  he  philosophized. 
Lycurgus  and  Cortez  each  gave  him  something  for 
present  times — some  great  abstract  truth  that  is  as 
true  now  as  in  those  days,  and  of  practical  application. 

He  was  not  well,  but  he  says :  "In  the  afternoon 
with  much  difficulty  I  met  a  class  of  women  and  we 
had  a  comfortable  time  ;  my  own  soul  felt  something 
of  the  Divine  presence. 

^'Friday. — My  health  is  still  poor,  but  I  must  ride 
twelve  miles  to  preach  at  the  funeral  of  Miss  Beall.  I 
spoke  with  great  plainness  and  some  liberty  to  an  at- 
tentive and  serious  congregation.  Could  there  be 
regular  service  in  the  neighborhood,  I  have  little 
doubt  that  there  would  be  a  good  society  raised. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


129 


The  harvest  is  great  and  the  laborers  are  few.  Oh  ! 
for  more  faithful  workmen  to  go  into  the  destitute 
places  of  the  Lord's  vineyard.  I  hear  they  have 
great  prospects  in  Savannah.  Glory  to  God  that  at 
length  he  has  visited  that  awfully  wicked  place  with  a 
shower. "  And  so  ends  the  old  journal.  It  is  the  only 
one  he  ever  kept.  He  probably  made  other  entries 
in  this,  for  what  remains  is  only  the  fragment  of  a 
larger  book.  It  reveals  the  steps  by  which  the  boy 
became  a  man. 

He  says  of  Augusta:  *'The  subject  of  building  a 
new  church  was  frequently  agitated,  but  the  move- 
ment was  tardy.  The  old  people  loved  that  ancient 
temple.  From  its  pulpit  they  had  heard  the  Word  of 
God,  which  had  proved  to  them  the  message  of  salva- 
tion. Around  its  altar  they  and  their  children  had 
found  the  pearl  of  great  price.  There,  too,  they  had 
been  wont  to  hold  sweet  communion  with  many  who 
had  long  since  passed  away  to  the  home  of  God.  With 
so  many  hallowed  associations  clustering  about  them, 
it  is  not  strange  that  they  revered  the  old  house  and 
loved  to  linger  about  it  in  its  hoary  decrepitude. 
Even  those  who  desired  a  new  church  never  dreamed 
of  anything  beyond  a  good  frame  building.  The  idea 
of  a  brick  church  never  crossed  our  minds,  for  at  that 
time  I  don't  think  we  had  a  single  brick  Methodist 
church  in  all  Georgia. 

"  Several  times  during  my  two  years'  residence  in 
Augusta  I  made  excursions  into  the  surrounding 
country,  attending  camp  and  other  meetings.  I  re- 
collect one  of  these,  excursions  with  peculiar  feelings 
of  gratitude.  It  was  a  visit  to  White  Oak  camp-meet- 
ing, in  Columbia  County.  The  congregation  was  very 
6* 


130 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


large,  variously  estimated  at  from  five  to  ten  thousand 
persons.  One  day  during  the  meeting  it  fell  to  my 
lot  to  preach.  The  text  was  Revelations  xx. :  12.  The 
theme,  of  course,  was  the  general  judgment,  and  God 
was  with  the  preacher,  and  a  solemn  sense  of  his  pres- 
ence and  majesty  pervaded  the  vast  concourse  who 
listened  to  the  word  preached.  It  was  an  awfully 
glorious  time.  Scores  rushed  to  the  altar  for  prayers  ; 
many  went  stricken  to  their  tents,  and  there  sought 
the  aid  and  counsels  of  Christian  friends  ;  and  not  a 
few  sought  retirement  in  the  solitude  of  the  forest, 
that  they  might  there  alone  wrestle  with  God  for  par- 
doning grace.  Shortly  after  the  sermon  was  ended  I 
was  requested  to  go  to  one  of  the  tents  to  pray  for  a 
lady  in  deep  distress.  This  lady,  Mrs.  Barnes,  had  not 
very  long  previously  attached  herself  to  the  Church, 
and  thought  that  all  was  well,  but  during  the  sermon 
she  felt  called  on  to  examine  herself  in  the  light  of  the 
revelations  of  the  final  judgment.  The  result  was  that 
she  became  painfully  convinced  that  she  had  not  on 
'  the  wedding  garment.'  She  sought  the  Lord  ear- 
nestly and  with  many  tears,  and  before  the  next  morn- 
ing God  manifested  himself  graciously  to  her  waiting, 
agonizing  spirit,  and  she  was  enabled  to  rejoice  in  a 
precious  sense  of  pardoning  mercy.  She  lived  many 
years  afterward  a  life  of  consistent  and  uniform  piety, 
and  a  few  years  since,  after  passing  through  long  and 
sore  affliction,  died  in  great  peace,  and  with  triumph- 
ant confidence  and  hope  passed  to  the  rest  which  re- 
mains to  the  people  of  God.  May  her  only  surviving 
child  emulate  her  mother's  pious  life,  and  rejoin  her 
ultimately  in  the  mansions  above. 

**  During    the  next  day  I  was  introduced  to  a 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


131 


strange  gentleman,  who  requested  me  to  walk  with 
him.  When  we  reached  the  woods  he  addressed  me 
to  the  following  purport :  '  I  have  been  a  very 
wicked  man,  perhaps  one  of  the  worst  you  ever  knew  ; 
indeed  there  is  scarcely  a  single  sin,  except  murder  and 
theft,  which  I  have  not  committed.  I  have  been  very 
often  to  meeting,  and  heard  many  preachers,  but 
nothing  ever  moved  me  until  yesterday  ;  and  I  stood  it 
out  pretty  well  until  you  brought  me,  with  my  family,  to 
the  bar  of  God  ;  then  I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  I  am 
a  miserable,  wretched  sinner,  too  bad,  I  am  afraid,  ever 
to  find  mercy.'  I  encouraged  him  and  instructed  him 
as  well  as  I  could.  He  sought  the  Lord  diligently 
during  the  residue  of  the  meeting,  but  left  the  camp 
with  a  burdened,  agonized  heart.  One  day,  a  week 
or  two  afterward,  he  went  into  his  stable  to  pray,  and 
while  wrestling  then  and  there,  he  obtained  peace  with 
God.  Many  years  after  I  met  him  at  a  camp-meeting 
in  the  interior  of  the  Stat£.  He  was  then  a  local 
preacher  in  our  Church.  During  the  present  summer 
I  met  on  the  cars  a  highly  respectable  minister  of  the 
Baptist  Church.  We  entered  into  conversation  in  re- 
ference to  former  days,  and  he  alluded  to  the  camp- 
meeting  and  the  sermon  above  mentioned  as  the  place 
and  the  instrumental  cause  of  his  awakening  and  con- 
version to  God. 

"  But  we  must  not  dwell  longer  at  this  camp-meet- 
ing, though  it  seemed  a  hallowed  spot  and  a  time  of  spe- 
cial refreshing  by  the  presence  of  God.  We  passed 
a  second  pleasant  year  in  Augusta.  The  people  con- 
tinued kind,  and  God  gave  us  some  tokens  for  good. 
The  Church  was  measurably  prosperous.  We  had  but 
little  local  preacher-help  in  Augusta,  so  that  the  labor 


132  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


fell  almost  exclusively  on  myself ;  yet  God  sustained 
me  and  preserved  me  and  mine  from  disease  and  death, 
although  we  were  in  the  midst  of  both.  And  now  my 
second  year  came  to  a  close,  and,  of  course,  I  was  to 
be  moved.  I  loved  the  people  of  my  charge,  and  it 
was  painful  to  leave  them  ;  but  then  why  should  I  be 
distressed  ?  God  is  everywhere,  and  the  hearts  of  all 
men  are  in  his  hands." 

The  reminiscences  give,  perhaps,  the  fullest  account 
extant  of  the  last  days  of  James  Russell,  who,  take 
him  all  in  all,  was,  while  not  the  greatest,  certainly 
the  most  remarkable  man  in  Georgia  Methodism.  In 
the  history  of  Methodism  in  Georgia  and  Florida  I 
have  tried  to  give  a  view  of  him  from  his  entrance  into 
the  ministry  to  his  last  days.  To  this  sketch  of  him  by 
Bishop  Andrew  I  was  largely  indebted,  and  am  now 
glad  to  give  it  entire  : 

During  my  stay  in  Augusta  I  had  frequent  op- 
portunities of  visiting  a  minister  who  once  acted  a 
very  prominent  part  in  the  movements  of  the  Church, 
especially  in  the  older  portions  of  the  State.  He  had 
been  a  very  popular  and  useful  preacher  ;  perhaps  no 
one  in  the  ministry  had  wielded  a  more  extensive  in- 
fluence in  the  great  religious  revivals  which  had  spread 
over  upper  Georgia  in  the  days  of  my  boyhood.  He 
was  now  wasted  by  disease,  wrecked  in  fortune,  dam- 
aged in  reputation,  and  was  slowly  sinking  to  the 
grave,  which  a  few  months  later  afforded  him  a  peace- 
ful retreat  from  the  tormenting  anxieties  and  troubles 
which  for  the  closing  years  of  his  life  had  filled  his  cup 
of  bitterness  full  to  overflowing.  Perhaps  a  brief  no- 
tice of  him  as  I  remember  him  in  my  boyhood,  and 
as  I  saw  him  in  his  latter  days,  may  not  be  unaccept- 


James  Osgood  Andrezv.  133 


able  to  those  who  may  honor  these  sketches  with  a 
perusal. 

'*  James  Russell  was  born  and  reared,  I  think,  in 
one  of  the  Carolinas  ;  of  the  precise  locality  I  am  not 
informed.  His  origin,  like  that  of  many  others  who 
have  done  the  world  good  service,  was  very  humble. 
His  earlier  days  were  passed  in  extreme  indigence 
and  obscurity.  Soon  after  his  conversion  he  felt 
that  he  was  called  to  the  ministry,  offered  himself, 
was  accepted,  and  became  a  Methodist  itinerant 
preacher.  But  so  defective  had  been  his  education 
that  he  could  scarcely  read.  He  had,  however,  one 
redeeming  trait — if  he  was  ignorant  he  knew  it,  and 
was  determined  not  to  remain  so.  He  felt  the  strug- 
gling spirit  within  him  and  determined  to  fill  up  the 
measure  of  his  duty  according  to  the  measure  of  his 
ability.  Being  aware  of  his  ignorance,  he  resolved 
to  shake  it  off ;  he  was,  therefore,  not  ashamed  to 
seize  every  opportunity  for  improvement.  He  took 
his  speUing-book  with  him  to  his  first  circuit,  and  did 
not  scruple  to  seek  instruction  from  any  and  every 
source  where  he  thought  it  could  be  obtained.  He 
was  pious,  devoted,  zealous  ;  so  that  he  soon  became 
acceptable  and  very  useful. 

"  I  recollect  with  what  feelings  of  awe  and  venera- 
tion I  first  looked  on  him  when  I  was  a  boy,  residing 
in  old  Broad  River  Circuit,  in  Elbert  County.  He 
traveled,  I  beheve,  what  was  then  called  Little  River 
Circuit,  which  took  in  Oglethorpe  County.  In  this 
county  was  a  considerable  strip  of  country  lying  along 
the  Broad  River,  which  was  the  dividing  line  between 
Oglethorpe  and  Elbert.  These  lands  were  then  fertile, 
and  occupied  mainly  by  old  Virginians — prosperous 


134 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


cotton  planters,  men  remarkable  for  industry,  enter- 
prise, and  honesty,  but  as  a  class  very  indifferent 
to  religion.  Many  of  the  leading  men  among  them 
were,  in  fact,  tinctured  with  infidelity — rather  an  un- 
promising field  for  a  Methodist  itinerant ;  and  yet  it 
was  among  those  people  that  Russell  obtained  his 
most  decided  triumphs.  His  fame  as  a  preacher  had 
preceded  him,  and  curiosity  attracted  hundreds  to  at- 
tend on  his  ministry.  Those  who  heard  once  wished 
to  hear  again.  The  Spirit  of  God  sealed  on  many  a 
thoughtless  heart  the  truths  delivered  by  his  servant. 
Awakenings  became  general,  and  the  welcome  inquiry, 
'  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?'  greeted  the  ears  of  God's 
minister  in  every  direction.  The  revival  was  deep 
and  extensive  ;  hundreds  were  added  to  the  church, 
scores  of  whom  have  finished  their  course  in  peace, 
and  a  large  number  of  those  who  were  the  fruits  of 
that  revival  still  live  in  various  parts  of  the  world,  and 
retain  their  zeal  for  God. 

"James  Russell  was  a  very  extraordinary  man. 
Commencing,  as  we  have  seen,  without  education,  he 
became  in  a  few  years  a  very  powerful  preacher ; 
and  although  a  critical  hearer  might  detect  in  his  ser- 
mons proof  of  defective  education,  yet  they  were 
creditable  in  point  of  style.  He  was  not  a  profound 
thinker,  but  he  possessed  a  large  fund  of  keen  shrewd- 
ness and  tact.  His  sermons  abounded  greatly  in 
metaphor  ;  almost  every  point  in  his  discourses  was 
illustrated  by  some  appropriate  and  striking  compari- 
son ;  and  these,  not  taken  from  classic  usages,  but 
from  the  matters  of  every-day  life,  and  urged  home 
upon  heart  and  conscience  with  an  earnestness  and 
power  which  I  have  rarely,  if  ever,  seen  exemplified  in 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


135 


any  other  man,  made  his  discourses  almost  irresisti- 
ble. From  my  recollection  of  him,  he  possessed  the 
power  of  persuasion  beyond  an}'- preacher  I  ever  heard. 
One  striking  trait  in  his  ministrations  was  his  bold, 
unfaltering  confidence  of  success.  He  advanced  to 
the  battle  as  though  the  shouts  of  victory  were  already 
cheering  him  on  to  prompt  and  thorough  triumph. 
He  seemed  to  feel  that  God  sent  him,  was  pledged  to 
sustain  him,  and  would  assuredly  make  good  his  word. 
I  recollect  to  have  heard  him  say  in  one  of  his  ad- 
dresses, '  Brethren,  I  have  no  doubt  that  God  will  work 
here  to-night  to  the  salvation  of  souls  ;  yea,'  said  he,  '  I 
have  no  doubt  that  God,  as  long  as  I  am  faithful,  will 
bless  every  exhortation  and  every  sermon  I  may  de- 
liver.' May  not  much  of  his  success  be  attributed  to 
this  childlike,  strong  assurance  that  his  Divine  Lord 
was  with  him  in  every  effort  which  he  made  in  that 
Master's  name  ;  may  not  the  powerlessness  of  many 
of  our  well-digested  and  highly  intellectual  discourses 
now  be  the  result  of  the  want  of  this  strong  abiding 
confidence  that  *  I  Am  '  hath  sent  us,  and  is  pledged  to 
be  with  us,  not  only  occasionally,  but  always  ?  Oh  that 
the  ministry  of  the  Church  were  all  on  this  vantage 
ground  !  What  power,  what  glorious  success,  would 
crown  the  Church  of  God  ! 

But  I  must  bring  this  brief  sketch  to  a  close. 
Some  years  after  the  time  of  which  I  have  spoken,  he 
was  stationed  in  Savannah,  where  the  society  was  very 
small  and  poor.  This  flock  was  unable  to  support 
him,  and  he  threw  himself  upon  his  own  exertions,  at 
least  measurably,  for  support.  This  was  probably  the 
first  step  in  that  course  of  entanglement  with  worldly 
traffic  into  which  he  plunged  with  eagerness,  and 


136 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


which  in  a  few  years  resulted  in  his  utter  ruin.  He 
failed  to  meet  his  engagements,  and  whoever  did  this 
without  having  a  full  taste  of  the  severity  of  a  judg- 
ment without  charity  ?  When  I  saw  him,  he  was 
sinking  to  the  grave.  He  talked  freely  of  the  past, 
deplored  his  errors,  and  expressed  a  strong  confidence 
of  his  interest  in  the  atoning  blood.  He  left  Augusta 
for  South  Carolina,  where  he  died  in  the  house  of  an 
old  and  attached  friend,  Dr.  Moon.  His  sun  shone 
clear  at  its  setting,  and  went  down  without  a  remain- 
ing cloud.  His  name  has  come  down  to  the  present 
race  of  Carolina  and  Georgia  Methodists  as  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  men  of  his  time.  His  public  ca- 
reer is  a  study  to  the  present  ministry  of  the  Southern 
Church.  Its  many  impressive  points  of  incitement 
and  warning  ought  not  to  be  lost.  It  has  been  esti- 
mated by  those  who  were  familiar  with  the  facts,  that 
James  Russell's  preaching  was  honored  of  God  in  be- 
ing instrumental  in  the  conversion  of  thousands.  What 
food  for  thought  does  this  single  statement  furnish  ! 
Many  a  preacher  jogs  on  in  the  routine  work  of  the 
ministry  without  the  cheering  consciousness  that  a 
half-dozen  souls  are  converted  to  God  by  the  preach- 
ing of  a  whole  year.  Let  such  a  man  ask  himself  the 
question  why  there  should  be  such  an  immense  dis- 
parity between  the  results  of  his  ministry  and  those  of 
his  predecessor,  sketched  in  the  foregoing  paragraphs. 
Let  him  make  what  abatements  he  will,  on  the  score 
of  the  brilliant  genius,  the  native  oratorical  power, 
the  large  faculty  of  illustration,  the  shrewd,  common- 
sense  perception,  the  inimitable  pathos  of  exhortation, 
which  distinguished  Russell,  there  yet  remains  a  vast 
territory  possessed  in  common  with  him  by  every 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


137 


God-commissioned  minister  of  the  Cross.  The  same 
Gospel,  the  same  Holy  Spirit,  the  same  fallen,  alien- 
ated human  nature  to  be  awakened  and  aroused  ;  the 
same  heaven  and  hell  from  which  moving  considera- 
tions are  to  be  brought ! 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  found  that  one  main  point  of 
difference  stands  in  the  higher  vigor,  the  more  robust 
strength  of  faith  possessed  by  the  *  old  man  elo- 
quent ; '  another,  in  the  mighty,  pleading,  not-to-be- 
resisted  violence  of  believing  prayer  which  charac- 
terized his  private  habit  of  life,  as  well  as  his  more 
professional  duties  in  the  pulpit  and  prayer-meeting. 
If  his  voice — the  music  of  persuasion — his  eloquence 
trumpeted  through  the  land  by  the  clarion  of  fame, 
attracted  and  fixed  the  gaze  of  crowds,  the  converting 
power  of  his  preaching  did  not  stand  in  these  accesso- 
ries, but  in  the  inculcation  of  truth — gospel  truth — in- 
tensely vivified  to  his  own  perceptions,  and  made 
vital  by  his  power  with  God,  as  a  man  of  mighty 
faith  and  prayer.  And  there,  I  have  said,  we  occupy 
what  might  be  common  ground,  had  we  the  same 
pleading  earnestness  of  spirit.  The  investiture  of  the 
*  Spirit  of  power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind,'  is 
the  gift  of  God,  bestowed  in  answer  to  prayer.  Then 
none  of  us  need  despair  to  obtain  its  largest  measures. 

The  history  of  Russell  presents  us  with  the  shadow 
of  a  deep  obscuration  gathering  upon  the  summer  noon 
of  a  brilliant  and  well-won  popularity.  We  trace  this 
to  his  locating  and  leaving  the  direct  work  of  the  min- 
istry. How  many  similar  cases  has  the  history  of  the 
itinerancy  brought  to  light.  The  wrecks  lie  scattered 
on  the  shore,  a  solemn  warning  against  the  easy  aban- 
donment of  vows  made  at  the  altar  of  God." 


138 


The  Life  arid  Letters  of 


The  Conference  was  held  in  Augusta,  and  John 
Howard,  who  was  in  Savannah,  made  an  exchange 
with  the  Augusta  preacher,  and  Andrew  was  sent  to 
Savannah.  Perhaps  in  no  city  in  the  United  States 
did  Methodism  have  a  harder  struggle  for  a  good 
footing  than  in  Savannah  ;  but  after  the  struggle  of 
nearly  twenty  years,  it  was  at  last  firmly  established. 
John  Wesley,  before  he  was  a  Methodist,  had  lived 
there,  and  an  unjust  odium  which  clung  to  him  had 
been  transferred  to  his  followers.  The  Episcopal 
Church  was  largely  Evangelical  ;  Whitfield's  con- 
stant ministry  had  supplied  it  with  spiritual  doctrine, 
and  strongly  grounded  it  in  Calvinism.  The  Presby- 
terian element  in  the  city  was  strong  and  wealthy. 
The  Lutheran  was  constantly  aided  from  Germany 
and  the  Saltzburg  Colony,  some  twenty  miles  above. 
McLeod,  one  of  Hammett's  followers,  had  founded 
an  Independent  Methodist  Church,  which  had  gone 
down.  Hope  Hull  had  been  driven  away  by  the  mob. 
There  had  been  faithful  and  apparently  useless  toil 
for  eight  years,  and  three  whites  and  four  blacks  con- 
stituted the  society.  Thus  it  was  in  1815.  Then  came 
Lewis  Myers  and  James  Russell,  and  a  church,  which 
saved  Savannah  Methodism  and  ruined  poor  Russell. 
After  a  time  came  Henry  Bass,  who  was  astonishingly 
successful.  He  built  a  parsonage,  and  William  Capers 
paid  for  it  the  next  year  with  money  collected  from 
South  Carolina. 

While  he  was  here  the  church  was  filled  with  the 
elite  of  the  city,  and  when  John  Howard  came,  with 
his  handsome  person,  his  fine  cultivation,  his  sweet 
voice,  and  his  fervid  eloquence,  a  gracious  revival 
came  with  him,  and  now  that  he  was  needed  in  Au- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


139 


gusta,  James  O.  Andrew  took  his  place  in  Savannah. 
He  tells  his  own  story  better  than  we  can. 

"  The  Conference  held  its  session  that  year  in  Au- 
gusta, so  that  I  was  saved  the  trouble  of  leaving 
home  till  I  started  for  my  next  year's  appointment. 
The  Conference,  so  far  as  I  recollect,  was  a  pleasant 
one,  without  any  extraordinary  occurrence  to  distin- 
guish it.  I  was  appointed  to  Savannah  for  the  year 
1822,  to  succeed  John  Howard,  who  was  my  suc- 
cessor in  Augusta ;  so,  as  soon  after  Conference  as 
convenient,  I  took  my  family  on  board  a  steamer 
and  dropped  down  to  Savannah,  which  we  reached 
safely  and  in  due  time.  My  family  now  consisted  of 
my  wife  and  three  children,  God  having  blessed  us 
with  a  third  sweet  httle  daughter,  my  dear  Sarah,  dur- 
ing our  residence  in  Augusta. 

"  Savannah,  at  the  time  of  which  I  write,  although 
the  chief  city  of  the  State,  and  its  only  important  sea- 
port, was  quite  limited  both  in  the  extent  of  its  boun- 
daries and  the  number  of  its  population.  Railroad 
enterprise  has  since  wrought  the  most  astonishing 
changes.  We  occupied  the  parsonage  house,  or 
rather  one-half  of  it,  the  other  half  having  been 
rented  out  to  help  the  Church  to  pay  expenses,  al- 
though the  whole  house  was  none  too  large  to  have 
made  my  family  comfortable  ;  still  we  were  very  well 
satisfied,  especially  as  we  had  a  most  excellent  neigh- 
bor in  the  adjoining  tenement. 

"The  parsonage  stood  on  what  was  then  known 
as  South  Common,  and  we  were  almost  on  the  outer 
verge  of  city  population,  there  being  only  a  few  scat- 
tering houses  beyond  us.  The  plain  church,  which, 
with  much  patient  toil,  our  pioneers  of  blessed  mem- 


40 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ory  had  reared  for  God  and  Methodism  in  Savannah, 
was  near  by.  It  was  small  at  first,  but  had  received 
considerable  additions  through  the  labor  of  my  inde-  ^ 
fatigable  and  popular  predecessor.  Wc  had,  besides,  a 
small  chapel  in  the  upper  portion  of  the  city,  called 
Spring  Hill  Chapel.  It  was  a  very  humble  taber- 
nacle, but  we  used  to  enjoy  some  precious  seasons  in 
love-feasts  and  prayer-meetings  in  that  old  edifice. 

In  addition  to  the  work  of  the  city  proper  we 
established  an  appointment  at  Goshen,  some  twelve 
miles  above  Savannah,  near  the  road  leading  to  Au- 
gusta ;  here  we  preached  regularly.  We  also  raised 
a  small  society  of  excellent  members,  and  mainly 
through  the  instrumentality  of  my  colleague,  George 
White,  instituted  a  Sunday-school,  which,  though  not 
very  large,  yet  became  an  instrument  of  considerable 
good. 

"  I  found  the  charge  in  a  prosperous  condition. 
Under  the  labors  of  Brother  Howard  the  Church  had 
been  blessed  with  a  gracious  revival  of  religion,  which 
had  gathered  a  goodly  number  into  the  fold.  As 
is  always  the  case  after  such  revivals,  there  had  been 
a  good  deal  of  sifting,  and  many  who  ran  well  for  a 
season  fainted  by  the  way  ;  but  a  large  number  still 
remained  faithful  to  their  vows  and  became  steadfast 
and  exemplary  followers  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  some  of 
whom  are  yet  at  their  posts  in  the  house  of  God, 
but  many  of  them  have  crossed  the  flood,  and  are, 
we  trust,  rejoicing  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  The 
Church  continued  to  prosper  in  some  good  measure 
during  the  year.  There  was  often  manifest  in  the 
congregation  a  good  deal  of  religious  interest,  and 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  a  considerable  number 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


141 


was  added  to  the  Lord.  The  people  showed  me 
great  kindness,  and  I  sadly  needed  it,  for  I  was 
called  during  the  year  to  wade  through  deep  and 
long-continued  family  afflictions.  First,  my  wife's 
brother  came  down  from  Augusta  sick,  and  remained 
for  a  length  of  time  at  the  parsonage  extremely  ill. 
Then  my  two  sweet  little  girls,  Elizabeth'  and  Mary, 
were  taken  ill  of  fever,  and  I  was  long  doubtful  which 
would  first  die.  Finally  it  pleased  God  to  remove 
my  precious,  gentle  Mary  to  the  better  land.  I  wit- 
nessed her  death-struggle,  and  heard  her  lisp  my 
name  as  her  last  utterance  on  earth.  I  followed  her 
to  her  resting-place  in  the  old  graveyard,  and  ex- 
pected that  I  should  have,  by  the  next  day,  to  bear  my 
other  sweet  lamb  to  the  same  quiet  spot ;  but  it  pleased 
God  to  turn  away  that  bitter  cup.  The  very  day  that 
Mary  died  we  found  that  Elizabeth  was  salivated  ;  the 
fever  yielded,  but  left  her  in  a  most  distressing  con- 
dition. For  weeks  she  required  the  most  assiduous 
attention.  She  used  to  lie  in  bed  and  pull  out  her 
teeth  and  pieces  of  her  jaw-bone  ;  indeed,  the  doctor 
removed,  at  different  times,  the  whole  of  the  latter. 
We  were  greatly  grieved,  but  the  doctor  thought  that, 
as  she  was  young,  another  bone  would  form,  and  so  it 
turned  out ;  and  she  yet  lives  to  bless  her  father  and 
her  own  children. 

But  our  cup  was  not  yet  full.  I  was  myself  taken 
down  with  fever,  which  confined  me  for  weeks  from 
the  services  of  the  ministry.  Oh,  heavily  did  the 
hours,  especially  those  of  the  holy  Sabbath,  pass 
away,  as  I  lay  there  in  my  sick  chamber  and  looked 


^  Mrs.  Dr.  Lovett,  who  died  in  1856. 


142 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


out  on  the  Common  and  saw  crowds  of  people  prepar- 
ing for  church.  There  were  my  people  going  to  the 
house  of  God,  while  their  pastor  lay  on  his  bed,  dumb 
and  good  for  nothing.  It  was  a  sore  struggle,  but  it 
was  well ;  God  was  teaching  me  to  bear  and  suffer — a 
much  more  difficult  lesson  than  that  of  active  doing, 
and  yet  it  is  one  equally  important  for  all  Christians, 
and  especially  Christian  ministers.  In  that  sick  cham- 
ber I  had  leisure  to  review  my  life  and  analyze  the  mo- 
tives of  my  conduct.  I  saw  things  then  in  the  light  of 
eternity.  It  was  a  close,  a  searching  catechism  ;  but 
it  did  me  good.  My  weaknesses,  my  imperfections, 
stood  out  honestly  before  me,  and  I  resolved,  by 
God's  grace,  to  do  better  and  to  preach  better.  Do 
you  ask  how  I  have  kept  my  vow  ?  I  can  only  say, 
I  have  tried.  God  only  knows  how  I  have  succeeded. 
At  length  the  fever  yielded,  and  I  was  pronounced 
convalescent,  but  then  I  was  wretchedly  salivated." 

During  the  year  1822  he  wrote  two  letters,  which 
have  been  preserved,  to  his  parents,  the  first  of  which 
was  written  in  April. 

To  JOHN  ANDREW. 

"Savannah,  April  29,  1822. 

"  My  Dear  Parents  : 

After  having  long  and  anxiously  looked  for  a  let- 
ter from  you  which  might  tell  me  whether  you  still 
lived  and  whether  you  were  doing  well,  and  after 
having  written  once  and  waited  patiently  for  weeks 
without  receiving  a  single  scratch  in  answer  thereto, 
I  once  more  take  up  my  pen  to  address  you.  My 
family  has  been  severely  afflicted  for  some  weeks 
past  with  whooping-cough  and  then  with  measles. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


143 


I  thought  once  that  some  of  the  children  would  have 
been  taken  from  us,  but,  thanks  to  gracious  Provi- 
dence, they  have  all  been  spared,  and  we  are  now 
doing  well,  and  are  very  well  satisfied  with  Savannah 
so  far.  I  have  been  received  with  kindness,  and  I 
am  not  without  hope  that  we  shall  be  favored  with 
a  gracious  visitation  from  above.  My  colleague  is 
an  intelligent  and  promising  young  man,  and  matters 
move  on  pretty  well.  I  suppose  you  heard  from 
me  through  the  medium  of  Brother  Stone,  of  this 
city,  who  has  been  in  the  neighborhood  of  Salem.  I 
need  not  tell  you  that  I  most  ardently  long  to  hear 
from  you,  and  to  know  how  you  like  your  new  resi- 
dence, and  what  is  the  prospect  for  a  school,  and  so 
on.  I  hope  you  will  be  pleased,  and  that  you  have  a 
more  peaceful  retreat  than  you  occupied  lately.  I  be- 
lieve it  will  prove  healthy,  and  I  hope,  in  other  respects, 
comfortable.  I  sometimes  think  of  the  little  place, 
and  if  I  were  to  consult  my  inclination,  I  should  build  a 
cabin  near  you  and  spend  the  balance  of  my  days  en- 
deavoring to  comfort  you  in  your  old  age  ;  but  the 
voice  of  imperious  duty  calls  me  elsewhere,  and  I 
must  obey  and  leave  my  belo-O-ed  parents  in  the  gra- 
cious hands  of  the  good  Saviour  who  has  redeemed 
me  and  blessed  me  all  my  life  long.  Ameha  unites 
with  me  in  love  to  you  all. 

Affectionately, 

James  O.  Andrew." 

"  Savannah,  November  6,  1822. 

*'  My  Dear  Father  : 

"Your  letter  by  Mr.  Trammell  was  received.  It 
afforded  me  much  pleasure  to  hear  of  your  health 


144 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


and  that  of  the  family.  I  can  rejoice  to  hear  that 
you  all  are  contented  and  happy.  I  trust  I  am  still 
on  my  way  to  a  heavenly  county,  where  affliction 
comes  no  more.  As  to  ourselves,  we  have  been 
sorely  visited  of  our  God.  We  have  followed  our  be- 
loved little  Mary  to  the  grave  ;  our  dear  Elizabeth  has 
been  very  sick  for  eight  or  nine  weeks.  She  has  lost 
part  of  her  gums,  and  her  mouth  is  still  very  sore. 
Her  health  is,  I  think,^improving.  Rather  more  than 
three  weeks  since  I  was  taken  with  bilious  fever.  For 
two  weeks  I  was  confined  to  my  bed  with  it.  Since 
that  time  I  have  suffered  much  from  sore  mouth,  in 
consequence  of  salivation.  I  am  now,  however, 
through  the  mercy  of  God,  gradually  recovering, 
but  I  fear  it  will  be  some  time  before  I  am  able  to 
take  the  pulpit.  But  for  my  extreme  debility,  I 
should  have  visited  you  about  this  time  ;  but  I  am 
unable  to  come,  and  I  think  it  doubtful  whether  I 
shall  be  able,  in  justice  to  my  station,  to  visit  you 
before  March.  However,  I  shall  write  you  more 
particularly  when  I  examine  into  the  state  of  the 
Church. 

I  send  you  inclosc'd  $200.  You  will  please  take 
up  my  note  to  Smith  about  the  land — $190.  The  $10 
you  will  appropriate  to  your  own  use.  You  say  you 
will  have  to  purchase  provisions.  You  can  purchase 
to  the  amount  of  $30,  and  I  will  be  answerable  for 
that  sum  when  I  come  up.  And  now  I  must  close. 
I  am  warned  by  my  feelings  that  my  strength  is  small. 
Give  my  love  to  all  and  believe  me, 
*'  Yours  affectionately, 

James  O.  Andrew." 


Jatnes  Osgood  Andrew. 


145 


From  HIS  WIFE. 
My  Dear  Sister  :  * 

"  I  hope  father  will  excuse  the  liberty  I  take  in 
using  part  of  his  letter  to  scratch  you  a  hasty  line, 
and  assure  you  that  it  has  not  been  want  of  inclination 
but  opportunity  which  has  prevented  my  writing  you 
for  so  long  a  time.  Indeed,  this  year  I  have  been 
peculiarly  situated.  One  source  of  affliction  has  suc- 
ceeded another,  until  sometimes  I  have  been  almost 
ready  to  sink,  but  the  Lord  has  supported  me  wonder- 
fully ;  and,  oh,  the  kindness  of  the  people  !  Language 
can  never  express  the  thousandth  part  of  it ;  but  it  is 
deeply  engraven  upon  my  heart,  and  draws  tears  of 
gratitude  from  my  eyes.  I  rejoice  to  learn  that  the 
family  has  been  blessed  with  health  this  year,  and 
that  some  of  them  have  recently  embarked  in  the 
service  of  God.  Oh  !  that  every  member  of  the  fam- 
ily may  be  found  in  the  bundle  of  life.  It  is  with 
pleasure  I  inform  you  that  Mr.  Robarts  and  sister  have 
both  joined  our  society.  We  hear  from  them  now 
and  then.  John  Robarts  is  at  this  time  in  Savannah, 
and  I  expect  will  write  by  this  opportunity.  Another 
thing — make  haste  and  write  me  that  you  and  Caro- 
line are  both  well  married  ;  that  will,  indeed,  give  me 
pleasure.  I  expect  Mr.  Andrew  and  myself  will  sail 
to-morrow  for  Charleston,  in  hope  of  recruiting  both 
his  and  Elizabeth's  health.  Present  my  tenderest  af- 
fections to  my  dear  parents  and  family.  My  love  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harris.  I  long  to  see  you  all,  and  be- 
lieve me,  dear  Lucy, 

Your  affectionate  sister, 

'*Anne  Amelia  Andrew." 


7 


146 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


John  Andrew,  near  sixty-five  when  he  read  these 
letters,  might  justly  feel  that  his  life  had  not  been  in 
vain  ;  and  as  Mary  Cosby,  with  tearful  eyes,  read  the 
lines  from  her  feeble  James,  just  from  death's  door, 
and  heard  him  say  how  gladly  he  would  build  his 
cabin  near  hers,  that  he  might  minister  to  her,  but 
that  duty,  stern  duty,  held  him  back,  she  might  well 
thank  God  that  ten  years  previously  she  had  packed  his 
saddle-bags,  given  him  her  blessing,  and  said  Go." 
Out  of  his  not  liberal  pay,  with  sickness  and  death 
to  meet,  he  had  not  failed  to  lay  up  enough  to  buy 
a  little  home  for  the  dear  old  people,  and  send  them 
money  to  buy  provisions.  No  wonder  they  laid  these 
precious  letters  away.  Grand  as  the  man  was,  he 
never  was  grander  than  when  he  penned  this  letter 
with  nervous  hand  that  November  morning,  and  sent 
the  $200  to  John  Andrew  by  Mr.  Trammell. 

The  reminiscences  say  again  : 

And  now  at  length  my  family  was  free  from  dis- 
ease, and  the  lamps  of  the  watchers  of  the  sick  went 
out  in  our  house  at  night,  which  had  not  been  the  case 
for  months.  We  had  passed  through  a  long  and  dark 
and  sorrowful  night  of  suffering  ;  yet  God  had  been 
gracious  in  the  midst  of  all.  First,  he  had  graciously 
sustained  my  excellent  wife  ;  her  health  had  been 
wonderfully  preserved,  so  that  she  was  able  to  bear 
the  heavy  burdens  which  were  laid  upon  her  without 
faltering.  In  the  second  place,  we  were  among  a 
people  who  showed  us  every  kindness.  Every  night, 
for  months,  we  needed  friends  to  watch  by  the 
couches  of  the  sick,  and  yet  there  was  never  any  lack. 
Not  only  did  my  own  flock  show  us  all  manner  of 
kindness,  but  the  citizens  generally,  without  distinc- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


147 


tion  of  sect  or  party,  expressed  their  sympathy  for  us 
by  acts  of  substantial  kindness.  Surely  I  ought  never 
to  forget  the  kindness  of  the  good  people  of  Savan- 
nah, and  I  never  will.  God  reward  them  all  abun- 
dantly. Many  of  those  who  showed  us  great  kindness 
are  not  on  earth  ;  a  goodly  number,  however,  still 
remain. 

"As  soon  as  my  health  would  permit  it,  my  wife 
took  our  little  daughter  to  Charleston,  that  she  might 
avail  of  the  skill  of  her  mother's  family  physician. 
Dr.  S.,  whose  kind  attention  resulted  in  restoring  her 
mouth  to  health.  As  she  remained  there  several 
weeks,  I  concluded  to  visit  her  ;  and  for  this  purpose 
embarked  on  board  a  sloop  bound  for  Charleston, 
loaded  mostly  with  hay.  One  night,  during  the  trip, 
I  got  up  at  a  late  hour  and  sauntered  to  the  deck.  I 
lay  down  on  a  bundle  of  hay,  and  while  in  that  posi- 
tion the  sloop's  large  boom  came  sweeping  suddenly 
across.  I  discovered  it  too  late  to  escape.  I  grasped 
the  bundle  of  hay  as  closely  as  possible,  and  the  boom 
scraped  me  so  closely  as  to  give  me  some  pain.  One 
inch  more  and  I  had  been  swept  into  the  sea,  with 
scarcely  a  possibility  of  deliverance.  Nor  should  I 
have  been  missed,  as  the  passengers  were  all  asleep, 
and  I  think  at  the  moment  there  was  not  another  soul 
on  the  deck  except  the  man  at  the  helm.  When  the 
danger  was  past,  and  I  reflected  on  it,  I  almost  trem- 
bled at  the 'thought  of  what  I  had  just  escaped,  and 
lifted  up  my  heart  in  thanksgiving  to  God  for  his 
ever  watchful  providence  which  had  been  over  me. 

"After  remaining  in  Charleston  a  few  days,  I  returned 
to  Savannah  with  my  family,  and  attempted  to  resume 
my  labors  ;  but  I  was  very  feeble,  and  so  continued 


148 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


through  the  remainder  of  the  year.  I  could  preach 
but  little,  and  many  of  the  brethren  persuaded  me  to 
leave  the  station  and  travel  for  my  health  ;  and  my 
worthy  Presiding  Elder,  the  Rev.  Lewis  Myers,  told 
me,  in  view  of  my  feeble  health,  he  would  cheerfully- 
release  me  from  the  labor  of  the  station.  '  I  will 
gladly  do  it,'  said  I,  'if  you  can  furnish  a  pastor  for 
my  people.'  'That,'  he  replied,  *I  cannot  do/ 
'  Then,'  said  I,  *  I  shall  continue  at  my  post,  and 
trust  to  God  the  issue.*  So  I  did  remain  at  my  post 
and  God  sustained  me. 

"And  now  the  first  year  in  Savannah  was  drawing 
to  a  close.  The  Conference  was  held  in  Savannah, 
Bishop  Roberts  presiding.  I  recollect  nothing  very 
special  connected  with  this  session,  except  that  it  was 
the  occasion  on  which  I  first  ventured  to  make  a  speech 
in  the  Annual  Conference,  of  five  minutes'  length.  I 
had  frequently  before  felt  the  spirit  of  speaking  pretty 
strongly  upon  me,  but  up  to  this  time  I  had  always 
resisted  it.  I  listened  to  the  old  and  wise  men,  and 
feared  to  measure  myself  with  them  ;  and  as  to  the 
second  and  third  rate  men,  some  of  whom  were  up  and 
spouting  on  all  occasions,  these  rather  disgusted  me, 
so  that  I  held  my  peace.  But  during  this  session 
some  subject  of  discussion  arose  in  which  I  felt  a  good 
deal  of  interest,  and  with  a  sort  of  desperate  effort  I 
brought  myself  up  to  the  sticking  point,  and  ventured 
a  speech  of  several  minutes'  duration.  The  spell  was 
now  broken,  and  I  am  not  very  sure  that  the  Conference 
had  not  subsequently  occasion  to  regret  it.  How- 
ever, I  believe  I  must  venture  to  say,  in  my  own  de- 
fense, that  my  speeches  were  never  very  long  ;  but  as 
to  the  amount  of  sense  which  they  contained  depo- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


149 


nent  saith  not.  I  could  never,  however,  to  the  last 
muster  courage  to  make  a  five-minutes'  speech  in  the 
General  Conference,  albeit  I  used  to  think  I  could 
beat  some  of  those  men  who  were  always  ready  to 
give  us  their  ligJit  on  every  subject. 

"  During  the  Conference  Bishop  Roberts  lodged  at 
the  parsonage,  which  gave  me  the  opportunity  of  be- 
coming more  particularly  acquainted  with  him.  The 
impression  which  the  Bishop  made  on  my  mind  when 
I  first  saw  him  several  years  before  at  Augusta  was 
highly  favorable  ;  but  then  I  only  knew  him  in  the 
Conference  room  ;  now  I  had  the  privilege  of  know- 
ing him  in  the  private  circle,  in  the  social  intercourse 
of  the  family  fireside,  and  it  was  just  the  position  in 
which  one  should  know  him  in  order  to  appreciate  him 
properly.  I  had  honored  him  before,  but  after  this 
I  loved  him  as  a  brother,  or  rather  as  a  father,  in 
Christ,  Bishop  Roberts  was  a  lovely  man  in  every 
aspect  of  his  character  :  as  a  Christian,  deeply  expe- 
rienced in  the  things  of  God,  warm  and  fervent,  yet 
thoroughly  scriptural  in  all  his  views,  with  nothing  of 
wildness  or  undue  enthusiasm  about  him.  I  should 
judge  that  he  had  but  very  little  sympathy  with  some 
of  those  very  marvelous  experiences  which  used  to 
occur  rather  more  frequently  than  they  do  now.  Dur- 
ing the  Conference,  at  one  of  our  services  in  the 
church  a  lady  arose  to  tell  her  experience,  though  it 
was  not  a  love-feast.  Her  history  abounded  in  strange 
and  marvelotis  events.  Among  other  wonderful  things 
she  stated  that  during  her  conviction,  so  intense 
was  her  agony  that  she  became  just  as  cold  as  she 
would  be  if  she  were  dead.  To  this  statement  the 
Bishop  demurred  very  strongly  ;  and  I  found  that 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  good  lady's  experience  was  not  at  all  to  his 
taste. 

"  All  who  knew  Bishop  Roberts  will  recollect  that 
he  was  a  most  delightful  singer.  His  voice,  even 
down  to  the  close  of  his  life,  possessed  uncommon 
compass  and  sweetness.  Yet,  although  he  sung  a 
great  deal,  even  in  private,  I  don't  remember  ever  to 
have  heard  him  sing  any  of  those  miserable  dog- 
gerel ditties  which  so  often  desecrate  our  social  and 
camp-meeting  altars.  The  fine  hymns  of  our  hymn- 
book  furnished  him  with  an  inexhaustible  store  of 
songs  in  which  to  celebrate  the  riches  of  the  grace  of 
God  without  outraging  good  Christian  taste  and 
sound  sense.  I  recollect  that  during  the  Conference 
the  Bishop  was  very  much  annoyed  by  a  good  sister 
from  the  country,  who  seemed  remarkably  in  love 
with  her  own  musical  powers,  and  who  was  ready,  in 
and  out  of  season,  to  edify  us  with  a  song ;  but,  unfor- 
tunately for  the  comfort  of  many  of  us,  and  especially 
the  Bishop,  she  gave  us  a  doggerel  production,  which 
was  not  very  uncommon  in  those  days,  the  chorus  of 
which  was,  '  And  a-begging  I  will  go,  I'll  go,  I'll  go.' 
This  superfine  production,  put  up  to  the  highest  notes, 
in  a  voice  not  the  sweetest,  greatly  annoyed  our  good 
old  friend. 

"The  Conference  closed,  and  I  was  reappointed  to 
Savannah,  and  it  was  'pleasant  to  know  that  the  ap- 
pointment was  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the 
people.  I  passed  a  second  agreeable  year  among  my 
flock,  whose  affectionate  attentions  to  my  comfort 
suffered  no  diminution.  The  Church  enjoyed  some 
good  measure  of  prosperity,  and  we  had  great  peace 
in  our  borders.    My  health  was  restored,  so  that  I  was 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  151 

enabled  to  perform  all  my  duties,  and  toward  the  close 
of  the  year  the  Lord  gave  us  another  child  in  place  of 
our  sweet  little  Mary,  whom  he  had  taken  to  himself 
the  previous  year.  My  dear  Henrietta'  still  lives  to 
bless  her  father  and  her  own  household.  During  this 
year  my  family  enjoyed  very  good  health,  with  the 
exception  of  my  colleague,  the  Rev.  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald, an  amiable,  excellent  young  man,  intelligent 
and  devoted;  but  he  early  gave  signs  of  mental  ali- 
enation. It  was  a  most  distressing  and  perplexing 
case.  He  was  perfectly  wretched,  and  seemed  only  to 
*  have  even  a  temporary  suspension  of  his  wretchedness 
while  engaged  in  conversation  with  either  my  wife  or 
myself  He  maintained  that  he  was  lost,  and  there 
was  no  salvation  for  him.  When  I  urged  upon  him 
the  scriptural  view  of  the  atonement  as  designed  and 
sufficient  for  all,  he  maintained  that  it  was  all  true  in 
reference  to  everybody  but  himself,  but  that  he  was 
an  exception  to  the  general  arrangements  of  God's  re- 
covering mercy,  and  that  his  damnation  was,  by  some 
mysterious  process  of  the  Divine  will,  essentially  con- 
nected with  the  salvation  of  the  rest  of  the  world. 
He  was  at  length  removed  by  the  Presiding  Elder, 
and  returned  to  his  friends  in  North  Carolina,  where 
he  recovered  his  right  mind,  and  married  a  most  ami- 
able and  interesting  woman.  I  met  him  many  years 
after  in  Grenada,  Miss.  He  was  comfortably  settled, 
happy  in  his  family,  and  appeared  to  be  devotedly 
pious.  His  removal  left  me  a  heavy  burden  to  bear ; 
but  God  sustained  me  and  I  was  able  to  accomplish  it. 
He  was  now,  after  eight  years  of  work  on  stations, 


'  Mrs.  Meriwether,  who  died  in  1862. 


« 

152  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  change  his  field,  and  was  sent  to  the  Charleston 
District.    He  says : 

My  second  year  in  Savannah  closed,  and  I  had  to 
leave  a  large  circle  of  endeared  friends  and  seek  for 
home  and  work  in  other  portions  of  the  Lord's  vine- 
yard. The  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Charleston,  and 
thither  I  repaired  with  my  family.  But  before  I  take 
my  final  leave  of  Savannah,  I  must  be  indulged  in  pay- 
ing some  tribute  to  the  character  of  one  who,  after 
serving  the  Church  for  a  great  many  years,  has,  within 
the  last  few  years,  been  removed  from  the  cares  and 
labors  of  earth. 

"  The  Rev.  Lewis  Myers  was  born  and  reared,  I  be- 
lieve, in  the  neighborhood  of  Indian  Fields,  S.  C.  He 
was  of  German  parentage,  and  being,  in  early  life,  left 
an  orphan,  was  indebted  to  the  fostering  care  of  a  rel- 
ative for  his  early  training.  He  was,  from  his  boyhood, 
remarkable  for  his  sobriety  of  behavior  ;  insomuch 
that  when  at  school  he  was  known  among  all  his  young 
associates  by  the  title  of  Old  Lewis.  Of  any  further 
facts  connected  with  his  early  history  we  are  ignorant, 
except  that  before  he  entered  the  ministry  he  con- 
trived, by  his  own  industry,  to  acquire  the  means  for 
obtaining  at  least  a  tolerable  education.  He  was  for 
some  time  in  a  school  in  Wilkes.  The  principal  teach- 
er was  a  Mr.  Posey,  though,  I  believe,  it  was  regarded 
as  being  under  the  supervision  of  the  Rev.  Hope  Hull. 
After  leaving  this  institution  he  entered  the  itinerancy 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  with  which  he  re- 
mained connected  to  the  day  of  his  death.  Few  men 
of  the  former  generation  of  Methodist  preachers  com- 
manded a  larger  share  of  the  confidence  of  the  Church 
than  Lewis  Myers.    This  was  not  the  result  of  brill- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


153 


iant  talents  or  great  eloquence,  for  he  possessed  neith- 
er. It  was  the  silent  homage  paid  by  the  multitude 
to  a  life  of  pure  and  well-tried  integrity. 

'*  My  earliest  recollections  of  the  South  Carolina 
Conference  were  associated  with  the  name  and  looks 
and  speeches  of  Lewis  Myers.  I  recollect  to  have 
looked  upon  him  with  a  kind  of  dread  ;  and  such,  I 
believe,  was  the  feeling  generally  entertained  toward 
him  by  the  young  men  who  were  just  entering  the 
Conference.  He  seemed  to  be  regarded,  by  common 
consent,  as  a  sentinel  upon  the  watch-tower,  to  lift  up 
a  note  of  warning  against  the  approach  of  any  innova- 
tions upon  the  ancient  peculiarities  of  Methodism. 
Woe  to  the  young  preacher  who  had  married  too  soon, 
or  who  had  failed  to  ask  advice  from  his  older  brethren 
before  he  even  entered  upon  his  courting  expedition. 
And  then  there  was  that  catechism  about  early  rising, 
of  which  it  might,  perhaps,  be  well  to  issue  a  new  edi- 
tion ;  and  the  sifting  of  the  subject  of  slavery,  for  every 
preacher  in  those  days  had  to  undergo  a  drilling  on 
that  subject.  The  preacher  had  to  answer  whether  he 
was  sound  on  that  point.  This  frequently  brought  about 
a  strange  state  of  things.  Sometimes  the  preacher  be- 
fore us  was  the  son  of  an  extensive  slave-holder,  and 
must,  of  course,  anticipate  the  ownership  of  no  small 
share  of  this  species  of  property  ;  or,  possibly,  he  had 
just  married  a  lady  owning  a  large  number  of  them,  and 
how  could  he  answer  the  question  ?  This  difficulty  could 
only  be  gotten  over  by  a  nice  distinction.  The  candi- 
date was  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the  thing,  though  he 
was  then,  and  always  expected  to  be,  in  the  practice. 
This  always  struck  some  of  us  as  a  thing  of  bad  ten- 
dency. It  presented  a  strong  temptation  to  dishonesty 
7* 


154 


TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 


of  speech,  and  was  very  near  akin  to  that  other  still 
more  ancient  usage,  which  required  the  preachers,  if 
not  the  members,  too,  who  were  slave-holders,  to  give 
a  bond  to  emancipate  them  at  a  certain  age.  A  good 
many  of  these  bonds  were  given  to  Asbury  ;  whether 
they  ever  led  to  the  freedom  of  many  slaves  is  ques- 
tionable, and  whether  the  few  who  may,  by  this  means, 
have  secured  nominal  freedom  had  gained  any  real 
boon  is  still  more  doubtful. 

Such,  however,  were  the  miserable  shifts  to  which 
the  ministers  of  our  Church  have  been  driven  to  carry 
out  a  system  of  ecclesiastical  legislation  which  had  for 
its  basis  neither  the  Bible  nor  common  sense  ;  which 
has  produced  nothing  but  evil  from  the  time  of  its 
first  inception  ;  and  which  still  continues  all  along  the 
border  to  give  rise  to  a  system  of  Jesuitical  jugglery 
and  management  which  enables  a  man  to  be  dreadfully 
opposed  to  the  sum  of  all  villainies  and  yet  to  com- 
fortably pocket  the  proceeds  of  the  labor  of  his  wife's 
slaves.  Or  when  slaves  would  come  to  him  by  inherit- 
ance, instead  of  receiving  and  freeing  them,  he  re- 
pudiates the  great  evil  and  receives  his  portion  of  the 
estate  in  other  property,  and  leaves  all  the  negroes  to 
be  divided  to  those  who  are  willing  to  take  them. 
Finally  my  old  friend  gave  up  the  struggle  upon  both 
of  these  points,  as  he  found  his  efforts  proved  unavail- 
ing. The  preachers  would  marry  according  to  their 
own  incliTiation  and  judgment,  and  the  questions  on 
the  subject  of  slavery  became  a  dead  letter  ;  for,  when 
Brother  Myers  abandoned  his  post  of  observation, 
none  was  found  to  succeed  him.  After  a  while,  greatly 
to  the  surprise  of  us  all,  it  was  announced  that  Brother 
Myers  was  married !  and,  certainly,  no  man  ever  had 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


155 


a  better  right,  for  he  had  lived  a  bachelor  a  great 
while,  had  drained  the  cu^  of  single  blessedness  to  the 
dregs,  and  was  fairly  entitled  to  try  the  sweets  of  do- 
mestic felicity.  Another  important  change  occurred 
in  his  views — he  bought  a  few  slaves  and  settled  down 
as  a  farmer  in  Effingham  County,  a  few  miles  from 
Savannah. 

**  Brother  Myers  traveled  several  years  after  his  mar- 
riage ;  then  took  a  superannuated  relation  to  the  Con- 
ference, and  purchased  a  pleasant  little  farm  in  Effing- 
ham County,  Ga.,  where  he  spent  the  remainder  of 
his  days,  an  example  of  industry  and  economy.  For 
several  years  before  his  death  his  mental  as  well  as 
his  physical  strength  failed  him,  till  at  length  he 
seemed  to  be  almost  unconscious  upon  every  subject 
except  religion,  and  in  this  condition  he  gently  went 
to  the  tomb.  Lewis  Myers  was  almost  unique  in  his 
style  of  preaching ;  he  was  deeply  read  in  the  Scrip- 
tures and  in  the  theological  works  of  our  Church.  His 
theology  was  thoroughly  Wesleyan ;  his  preaching 
was  sententious  and  pointed  ;  and  he  spoke  almost  as 
much  by  the  motion  of  his  head  and  hands  as  with  his 
tongue.  To  me  he  was  always  an  instructive  and 
interesting  preacher.  Lewis  Myers  was  a  great 
economist  of  time,  and  was,  I  believe,  through  life, 
one  of  the  old  four-o'clock  school  of  Methodist 
preachers,  and  when  he  was  up  he  was  always  busy. 
He  was  also  a  great  economist  of  money,  wasting 
nothing,  and  turning  everything  to  the  best  account, 
so  that  when  he  retired  from  his  active  ministry  he 
had  enough  to  settle  his  family  comfortably.  Yet, 
with  all  this  economy,  he  was  not  penurious  ;  he  had 
a  kind  heart  and  was  ever  ready  to  give  to  and  in 


156 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


every  worthy  cause.  He  loved  the  Church  with  a 
most  fervent  affection,  and  faw,  with  pain,  every  in- 
dication of  departure  from  what  he  regarded  as  the 
principles  and  landmarks  which  had  so  efficiently 
contributed  to  the  success  of  early  Methodism.  Espe- 
cially was  he  zealous  for  the  perpetuity  of  the  itinerant 
system  and  the  purity  and  zeal  of  the  preachers. 
Few  who  attended  the  sessions  of  the  Georgia  Con- 
ference during  his  last  visits  can  have  forgotten  his 
affectionate  and  characteristic  warnings  to  his  breth- 
ren. A  few  months  subsequent  to  his  death,  I  re- 
ceived from  his  executors  his  large  old  silver  watch, 
with  a  note  to  this  purport :  *  I  give  this  watch  to 
James  O.  Andrew  as  a  token  of  my  regard  for  Meth- 
odist itinerancy.'  " 


9 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


157 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DISTRICT  WORK  AND  CHARLESTON  STATION. 
1824-1828. 


Charleston  again.— The  Charleston  District.— Stephen  Clin.— Samuel 
Dunwody. — General  Conference  of  1824. — The  Charleston  Station. — 
Yellow  Fever. — Death  of  Asbury  Morgan. — Letters.— Appointed  to 
Greensboro  and  Athens. 


ITH  his  last  year  in  Savannah  he  had  completed 


V  V  his  tenth  year  in  the  ministry.  He  had,  during 
that  time,  been  on  circuits  and  stations  both  as  junior 
preacher  and  preacher  in  charge  in  the  counties  and 
in  the  cities,  and  in  three  States.  He  was  now  to  try 
another  and  a  harder  field.  He  was  to  be  the  Presid- 
ing Elder  of  a  large  and  important  district. 

Of  all  the  hard  work  of  those  times  the  Presiding 
Elder's  work  was  the  hardest.  His  district  was  gener- 
ally very  large — as  large  often  as  a  modern  Conference. 
There  were  no  railways  nor  telegraphs,  and  when  he 
left  home  he  expected  to  be  gone  for  six  weeks,  and 
during  that  time  he  had  but  little  hope  of  hearing  from 
home  at  all.  He  was  to  be  evangelist,  judge  of  law, 
superintendent  of  the  flock,  and  to  look  after  the  tem- 
poral as  well  as  the  spiritual  interests  of  his  district. 

The  Bishop  came  to  the  Annual  Conference,  pre- 
sided over  it  for  a  week,  and  was  gone.  He  was  not 
to  be  reached  by  telegraph  or  quick  mail.  The  preacher 


158 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


and  layman  looked,  therefore,  to  the  Elder,  who 
filled  his  place  in  the  interim.  The  office,  though  one 
of  great  responsibility,  was  one  of  great  opportunities 
for  usefulness. 

The  people  expected  a  great  deal  when  the  Elder 
came.  The  quarterly  meeting  did  not  come  often  to 
the  same  church,  and  its  coming  was  known  long  be- 
forehand. For  months  the  neighbors  were  looking 
toward  it.  From  twenty-eight  churches  the  officials 
gathered — there  were  not  less  than  fifty  of  them  in  all. 
They  were  nearly  all  of  them  in  those  days  dressed 
alike  ;  for  a  local  preacher,  especially,  not  to  wear  a 
broad-brimmed  hat,  or  a  straight-breasted  coat,  would 
have  been  as  if  a  general  had  gone  on  parade  without 
his  stars.  A  grave,  sedate  body  was  the  Quarterly 
Conference  then. 

Are  there  any  complaints  ?"  was  a  serious  ques- 
tion, and  not  rarely  the  young  preacher  found  him- 
self arraigned  for  some  deviation  from  old-time  rules. 
He  slept  too  late  ;  he  did  not  preach  on  dress,  or  he 
wore  suspenders.  The  first  Quarterly  Conference 
grappled  with  the  question,  What  shall  be  allowed 
for  the  family  expenses  of  the  preacher  in  charge  ?  " 
A  Provision  Committee,  as  it  was  called,  laboriously 
considered  the  question  as  to  how  much  flour  and 
meal  and  bacon  the  preacher's  family  needed,  and 
what   it  would  cost ;  and  then  came  the  inquiry, 

How  much  has  been  collected,  and  how  has  it  been 
applied?"  Sad,  oftentimes,  was  the  response.  The 
Presiding  Elder's  righteous  soul  was  stirred  within 
him,  and  in  no  gentle  terms  did  he  rebuke  the  officials 
who  had,  they  thought,  been  trying  to  get  the  people 
to  givey  and  who  deplored  the  fact  that  the  report  was 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


159 


so  small ;  and  so  the  work  went  on.  No  short,  half- 
hour  session  then  after  sermon,  but  an  evening  of  real 
labor. 

This  was  the  work  of  Saturday  afternoon.  The  El- 
der had  preached  in  the  morning,  and  now  they  all 
went  to  the  country  houses  round  about  to  get  ready 
for  the  Sunday  services. 

Sunday  was  the  great  day  of  the  quarterly  meet- 
ing. Early  in  the  morning  the  Methodist  families 
for  miles  around  were  astir  before  daylight,  so  as  to 
get  to  church  to  the  love-feast  at  nine  o'clock,  at 
which  hour  the  Presiding  Elder  was  in  his  chair, 
the  opening  services  were  then  had,  and  the  door  was 
closed.  The  love-feast  now  fairly  began.  The  little 
worry  of  yesterday  was  over  now,  and  as  the  warm, 
tearful,  perhaps  happy  experiences  were  told,  there 
were  oftentimes  rapturous  shouts,  tender  confessions, 
and  renewed  vows.  The  hour  and  a  half  was  soon 
gone,  and  after  a  brief  interval,  everybody  that  could 
get  in,  crowded  into  the  little  church  to  hear  the  Elder 
preach  and  receive  the  sacrament. 

If  the  Elder  had  liberty,  as  he  generally  did,  there 
was  a  time  of  great  joy.  He  usually  preached  a  sermon 
of  considerable  length.  The  people  had  come  a  long 
way  to  hear  him,  and  he  condensed  into  one  sermon 
the  substance  of  three  or  four  city  discourses.  He  did 
not  often  fail  to  stir  the  multitude,  and  when  the  Lord's 
Supper  came  on  it  was  indeed  a  time  of  feasting. 

The  camp-meetings  were  great  occasions  then, 
and  the  Presiding  Elder  was  in  his  glory  there.  He 
was  the  general-in-chief.  James  O.  Andrew  was  a 
grand  camp-meeting  preacher,  and  many  were  the 
sinners  awakened  and  converted  under  his  ministry. 


i6o  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

The  trying  work,  however,  of  the  Presiding  Elder 
was  to  provide  preachers  for  the  circuits  and  stations. 
Now  the  question  is  how  shall  we  provide  places  for 
men  ;  then  it  was  how  shall  we  provide  men  for  the 
places.  The  laborers  were  few ;  the  work  hard  ;  the 
pay  small;  no  parsonages  ;  no  public  modes  of  travel ; 
the  Bishop  was  nominally  the  appointing  officer,  but 
the  Presiding  Elder  had  almost  the  entire  responsi- 
bility. 

The  district  was  a  large  one  and  a  very  important 
one.  It  extended  from  a  few  miles  below  Columbia, 
S.  C.,to  Charleston  and  then  to  Savannah,  embracing 
all  of  lower  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  and  the 
whole  of  it  was  to  be  traveled  on  horseback  or  on 
wheels.  There  was  a  part  of  it  where  he  would  be 
exposed  to  much  danger  from  malaria.  The  demands 
upon  him  were  great,  indeed,  and  how  could  he  live  on 
his  small  salary  ?  How,  even  with  a  house,  could  he 
support  a  family  in  Charleston  on  $500  a  year  ?  He 
coi.ld  not  do  it ;  of  course  he  could  not ;  but  the 
sweet  woman  who  had  given  him  her  all  eight 
years  before  was  his  stay,  and  her  busy  fingers  kept 
the  table  supplied  and  the  little  ones  clad,  and  he 
went  on  his  way.  Oh  !  Brother  Myers  !  Brother  My- 
ers !  what  say  you  now  ?  Was  James  Andrew  so  far 
wrong  after  all  ? 

This  time  of  1824  was  in  the  second  era  of  Meth- 
odism in  South  Carolina.  The  last  of  the  pioneers 
was  gone.  The  race  who  came  now  found  Meth- 
odism. The  acorn  had  been  planted,  the  tree  was 
growing;  but  it  is  sometimes  more  difficult,  and  it 
certainly  is  as  important,  to  train  as  it  is  to  plant, 
and  the  preachers  and  Presiding  Elder  had  no  easy 


y antes  Osgood  Andrew. 


task.  Samuel  K.  Hodges  was  establishing  the  lines 
in  the  new  country  of  Georgia  ;  Andrew  Hammill 
was  in  the  swamps  and  wire-grass  ;  Lewis  Myers  in 
the  old  section  of  middle  Georgia  ;  Henry  Bass  in  the 
up-country  of  South  Carolina;  William  M.  Kennedy 
in  the  east  of  both  Carolinas  ;  Daniel  Christenbury  in 
the  mountains  ;  and  James  O.  Andrew  among  the 
swamps. 

The  preachers  in  his  district  were  no  ordinary  men. 
His  own  graphic  pen  has  pictured  some  of  them.  The 
foremost  figure  of  them  all  is  Stephen  Olin.  A  young 
Vermonter  coming  South — a  skeptic,  of  pure  morals, 
of  studious  habits,  but  of  godless  heart — he  was  won- 
derfully converted,  and  had  given  himself  to  a  minis- 
try for  which  he  was  so  highly  gifted,  but  to  which, 
at  one  time,  there  seemed  so  little  probability  of  his 
devoting  himself.  He  was  stationed  in  Charleston, 
and  was  an  inmate  of  the  home  of  the  Presiding  Elder. 
There  was  much  to  draw  them  together  ;  there  was 
nothing  to  drive  them  apart,  and  there  never  has  been 
a  more  touching  friendship  than  that  which  existed 
between  them  for  over  thirty  years.  Toward  James, 
as  he  called  him,  and  the  dear  wife  who  was  as  a 
sister  to  him,  there  burned  in  the  great  heart  of  the 
Vermonter  a  love  as  deep  and  true  as  that  great  heart 
could  feel.  To  the  day  of  Olin's  death  letters  passed 
constantly  between  them,  and  though  our  story  will  tell 
of  a  painful  episode  in  this  friendship,  there  never  was 
the  interruption  of  a  twelvemonth  in  their  brotherly 
intercourse.  Andrew's  admiration  for  Olin,  an  admi- 
ration expressed  in  the  sketch  which  follows,  was  only 
equalled  by  Olin's  admiration  for  Andrew.  They 
were  very  near  the  same  age.    Olin  was  a  stranger  in 


62 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Charleston  and  an  inmate  of  Andrew's  home.  The 
little  children  were  his  pets,  the  noble  wife  his  friend 
and  confidant.    But  we  turn  to  the  reminiscences  : 

''This  Conference  was  held  in  Charleston;  Bishop 
George  presided.  At  its  close  my  name  was  an- 
nounced as  Presiding  Elder  of  the  Edisto  District, 
which  at  that  time  included  Charleston,  Cooper  River, 
Cypress,  Orangeburg,  Black  Swamp,  and  my  old  cir- 
cuit, Salt  Ketcher — though  I  think  it  had  taken  another 
name.  And  then  there  was  the  Congaree  Circuit,  near 
Columbia ;  and  below  that  we  formed,  I  think,  about 
this  time,  another  circuit  called  Hollow  Creek ;  and 
besides  these  we  crossed  over  and  took  in  Savannah. 
Here  was  work  enough  to  keep  me  busy.  A  dis- 
trict parsonage  had  been  built,  but  there  was  no 
furniture  in  it,  and  I  had  no  money  to  buy  any. 
So  I  borrowed  $ioo  from  Duke  Goodman  ;  and 
I  take  occasion  just  here  to  remark,  that  up  to  this 
time  I  had  always  been  able  to  make  both  ends  of 
the  year  meet.  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  left 
a  station  without  paying  up  all  my  debts  ;  but  from 
the  day  that  I  borrowed  that  hundred  dollars  I  don't 
think  I  have  ever  been  entirely  out  of  debt.  I  did 
not,  however,  go  to  the  district  parsonage.  At  the 
invitation  of  the  Charleston  Station  I  occupied  the 
Bethel  parsonage  that  year,  and  the  two  subsequent 
years  I  rented  a  house  in  a  more  eligible  portion  of 
the  city.  The  little  old  district  parsonage  was  subse- 
quently sold,  and  a  more  suitable  lot  and  house  was 
procured. 

Among  the  preachers  stationed  in  the  city  this 
year  was  Joseph  Galluchat  and  Stephen  Olin.  Brother 
Galluchat  was  able  to  perform  but  Httle  labor,  being 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


'63 


far  gone  in  consumption  ;  and  the  latter,  though  ap- 
parently a  stout  man,  failed  in  half  the  year,  and  had 
to  leave  the  station  and  travel  for  his  health.  He  re- 
turned to  his  station  in  the  autumn,  but  was  unable  to 
render  much  efficient  service  afterward.  This  was  my 
first  acquaintance  with  this  eminent  man  ;  and  I  had 
subsequently  ample  opportunity  to  know  him  inti- 
mately. He  resided  in  my  family  for  several  months, 
and  used  sometimes  to  take  his  horse  and  travel  partly 
round  my  district  with  me.  After  he  left  the  South 
we  were  in  the  habit  of  regular  correspondence, 
which  was  in  its  character  most  full,  free,  and  unre- 
served ;  and  now  that  God  has  removed  him  to  his 
better  rest,  I  may  speak  of  him  freely.  In  his  reli- 
gious intercourse  and  experience  he  was  frank  and 
cheerful,  confiding  and  childlike.  In  his  early  man- 
hood an  infidel,  God  had  been  pleased,  in  a  strange 
manner,  to  bring  him  to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
His  conversion  was  thorough  ;  the  rebellion  of  his 
heart,  his  pride  of  intellect,  were  entirely  subdued  ; 
and  he  embraced  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  mind  and  heart.  The  great  doctrines, 
the  atonement  and  intercession  of  Christ,  which  had 
formerly  perplexed  him,  he  now  embraced  as  the  only 
truths  which  could  meet  the  necessities  of  his  nature  ; 
hence  he  clung  to  them  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  soul  ; 
and  often  in  his  hours  of  disease  and  loneliness  have  I 
seen  him  kindle  into  joyous  exultation,  while  he  re- 
ferred to  these  glorious  doctrines  as  the  source  of  his 
richest  comforts. 

"  I  recollect  once  to  have  heard  him,  at  a  time  when 
he  could  scarcely  leave  his  room,  and  all  before  him 
seemed  dark  and  cheerle^^    sfer,  in  the  language  of 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


confidence  and  triumph,  to  those  words  of  St.  Paul : 

*  For  if  when  we  were  enemies  we  were  reconciled  to 
God  by  the  death  of  his  Son,  much  more  being  recon- 
ciled we  shall  be  saved  by  Jiis  life.'  *  There,'  said  he, 
'  is  my  ground  of  comfort  and  support ;  Jesus  saved 
me  when  I  was  an  enemy,  and  now  that  I  am  his 
child  he  will  not  forget  me,  for  Jie  lives'^  With 
these  views  and  experiences,  it  will  not  be  surprising 
to  those  who  used  to  wait  on  his  ministry,  that  he 
dwelt  so  frequently  and  so  earnestly  on  these  glorious 
verities  of  Christianity. 

He  had  entered  the  itinerancy  of  our  Church  with 
an  all-pervading  desire  to  give  his  strength  and  life  to 
the  work  of  preaching  that  Saviour  whom  once  he 
denied  ;  but,  strangely  as  it  appeared  to  us,  God  in 
his  providence  seemed  to  lay  a  stern  interdict  upon 
him  in  reference  to  this  very  thing,  which  he  was  so 
earnestly  desirous  to  accomplish,  and  which  every- 
body judged  he  was  so  pre-eminently  qualified  to 
do  with  ability  and  success.  He  was  rarely  able  to 
preach  more  than  a  few  sermons  successively  before 
he  was  prostrate,  and  unable,  perhaps  for  a  long  time, 
even  to  pray  in  the  family  ;  yet,  amidst  all  these  dis- 
couraging circumstances,  the  strong  wish  and  hope 
that  he  might  yet  see  the  day  when,  in  God's  provi- 
dential dispensations,  he  would  be  able  to  spend  and 
be  spent  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  never  left  him. 

*  Oh,'  he  would  often,  say,  *  how  gladly  would  I  take 
the  poorest  circuit  in  the  Conference  if  I  only  had 
health,  rather  than  accept  the  proudest  office  which 
could  be  conferred  upon  me.'    Yet  God,  who  knew 


This  very  passage  was  read  to  Bishop  Andrew  on  his  death-bed. 


James  Osgood  A?idrew. 


165 


him  best,  and  who  knew  what  was  best  for  the  Church, 
saw  fit  to  thwart  his  cherished  wishes,  and  preferred 
to  prepare  him  for  heaven  rather  in  the  crucible  of 
suffering  than  in  the  field  of  free  and  unfettered  ac- 
tion. 

"  I  recollect  once,  while  we  were  traveling  together,  I 
suggested  to  him  that  as  there  seemed  but  little  prob- 
ability of  his  ever  being  able  to  serve  the  Church  effi- 
ciently as  a  preacher,  he  had  better  try  to  procure  a 
berth  in  the  University  of  Georgia,  where  he  might 
be  able  to  provide  for  himself  by  teaching,  at  the  same 
time  remarking  that  it  would  be  of  decided  advantage 
both  to  the  University  and  to  our  Church  for  him  to  fill 
a  chair  in  that  institution.  The  suggestion  seemed  to 
strike  him  favorably  ;  and,  as  is  known,  he  was  subse- 
quently called  to  a  professorship  there,  which  he  filled 
with  distinguished  ability  and  great  popularity  until 
he  left  Athens  to  take  the  Presidency  of  Randolph 
Macon  College.  He  was  influenced  to  this  step  in  a 
great  measure  by  the  hope  that  the  climate  of  Vir- 
ginia, being  more  northerly,  might  be  better  adapted 
to  his  constitution,  which  he  was  now  convinced  could 
not  stand  a  climate  as  far  South  as  Georgia.  The  re- 
sult is  well  known.  He  soon  found  that  he  must 
abandon  Virginia  and  the  cares  and  labors  of  collegi- 
ate instruction,  or  find  an  early  grave.  He  accordingly 
left  Virginia  and  sought  in  foreign  travel  that  health 
which  seemed  to  be  denied  him  in  his  own  country. 
In  his  foreign  wanderings  he  buried  his  devoted  and 
accomplished  wife,  and  ultimately  returned  with 
health  partially  improved,  but  still  not  sufficient  to 
carry  out  his  cherished  desire  of  devoting  his  life  and 
energies  wholly  to  the  work  of  the  gospel  ministry. 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


He  was  called  to  the  Presidency  of  the  Wesleyan 
University,  in  which  position  he  remained  with  great 
credit  to  himself  and  usefulness  to  the  Church  till  God 
removed  him  from  earth. 

"  I  regarded  Dr.  Olin  as  among  the  very  best 
preachers  I  ever  listened  to.  He  took  in  all  the  great 
bearings  of  his  subject  almost  intuitively.  Although 
there  was  no  formal  announcement  of  any  division  of 
the  text,  yet  the  most  admirable  order  and  arrange- 
»  ment  were  manifest  throughout  the  entire  discourse. 
He  seemed  not  only  to  grasp  the  whole  range  of  im- 
portant truth  in  his  theme,  but  the  keys  to  the  human 
understanding  and  heart  seemed  to  be  in  his  hands  ; 
and  as  he  proceeded  in  his  masterly  delineation  of 
truth,  and  his  cogent  and  almost  resistless  application 
of  it  to  human  conduct  and  motive,  you  felt  so  entirely 
absorbed  in  the  preacher's  mighty  theme,  that  you 
never  thought  to  ask  whether  he  was  an  orator  ac- 
cording to  the  canons  of  that  art.  You  had  no  time 
nor  heart  to  make  any  such  inquiry.  You  felt  that 
the  preacher,  forgetting  himself,  had  brought  you — 
mind,  heart,  and  conscience — into  an  audience  with 
your  God  ;  and  in  that  august  presence  it  would  have 
seemed  a  profane  impertinence  to  ask  or  think  of  such 
matters  as  style  or  gesture.  While  his  sermons  were 
clear,  able,  and  logical,  and  masterly  expositions  and 
defenses  of  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity — such 
as  only  a  scholar  could  have  preached — yet  was  there 
no  affectation  of  learning.  The  end  and  aim  of  the 
preacher  was  evidently  to  make  the  great  truths  which 
he  inculcated  plain  to  his  most  illiterate  hearers.  He 
loved  to  dwell  on  faith  in  its  character  and  results,  its 
influence  on  human  life  and  hope  ;  and  while  you 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


listened  you  were  all  the  time  saying  to  yourself: 
*Yes,  that's  exactly  the  thing;  I  wonder  I  had  not 
thought  of  it  in  that  light  before.' 

It  is  said  that  in  a  company  of  clergymen  of  another 
denomination,  the  following  conversation,  in  substance, 
occurred :  *  Well,'  said  one  of  them,  addressing  a 
venerable  senior  who  had  heard  Mr.  Olin  preach, 
*  what  is  there  about  this  celebrated  Methodist 
preacher  that  is  so  remarkable  ?  Is  it  his  oratory, 
or  what?  '  *  No,'  said  the  other,  *  he  never  seems  to 
think  of  oratory  ;  nay,  he  seems  to  set  all  the  rules 
of  the  schools  on  that  subject  at  defiance  ;  you  go  to 
hear  him  preach,  and  a  large,  rather  coarse-looking 
man  rises  before  you  ;  his  gestures  are  rather  awk- 
ward than  otherwise,  but  he  takes  his  text  and  enters 
upon  its  exposition,  and  you  soon  forget  the  man  en- 
tirely ;  you  have  forgotten  his  looks  and  his  gestures  ; 
but  as  he  proceeds  you  say  to  yourself, Exactly  right, 
that's  certainly  the  very  thing  that  ought  to  have  been 
said  ;  "  and  so  it  continues,  sentence  after  sentence,  to 
the  end  of  the  sermon  ;  and  you  are  thinking  all  the 
time,  ' '  Well,  I  wonder  I  never  saw  it  so  before,  and  if  I 
live  to  preach  again  I'll  do  it  in  the  same  way."  But 
now,'  said  the  old  gentleman,  'do  you  try  it.'  The 
above  incident  gives  fully  my  view  of  the  peculiar 
character  of  Dr.  Olin's  preaching. 

"  His  sermons  were  always  long,  frequently  two 
hours  in  length,  though  his  hearers  seldom  believed  it 
unless  by  the  testimony  of  their  watches.  The  fact  was, 
he  preached  but  seldom,  and  when  he  was  able  to  at- 
tempt it,  it  was  like  the  letting  out  of  waters  which 
had  been  dammed  up  for  weeks.  Dr.  Olin's  enuncia- 
tion was  distinct,  yet  he  was  a  rapid  speaker ;  and 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


when  I  used  to  listen  to  him,  it  seemed  to  me  that  he 
had  no  utterance  sufficiently  rapid  to  give  vent  to  the 
mighty  tide  of  thought  and  feehng  which  was  rushing 
through  his  mind  and  heart.  But,  perhaps,  we  should 
quit  this  theme." 

The  preacher  in  charge  of  the  Charleston  Station 
was  Samuel  Dunwody.  Of  him  the  reminiscences 
say : 

"  He  was  a  man  of  many  eccentricities,  but  of  strong, 
sterling  sense,  particularly  in  reference  to  theological 
subjects  ;  perhaps  few  men  of  the.  age  have  studied 
the  Scriptures  more  attentively,  or  analyzed  the  teach- 
ings of  the  sacred  oracles  more  closely  and  intelli- 
gently than  Brother  Dunwody.  He  was,  in  the  days 
of  his  prime,  the  most  thorough  living  concordance 
that  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  meet.  Fewer  men 
better  understood  the  whole  range  of  Wesleyan 
theology,  or  could  more  ably  defend  the  doctrines 
therein  embraced.  He  read  much,  observed  closely, 
and  as  he  was  blessed  with  a  remarkably  retentive 
memory,  whatever  he  once  made  his  own  he  never 
lost,  but  was  always  at  his  command  when  he  had  oc- 
casion to  use  it.  His  accuracy  of  recollection,  espe- 
cially in  reference  to  dates,  was  perfectly  astonish- 
ing. Nor  was  his  reading  by  any  means  confined  to 
theology  ;  he  was  quite  a  politician.  In  short,  he 
read  almost  everything  that  came  in  his  way.  Yet 
with  all  this  amount  of  reading,  intelligence,  and  pul- 
pit strength,  he  was  in  his  appearance  and  manners  in 
the  pulpit  and  out  of  it  the  most  perfect  embodiment  of 
awkwardness  I  have  ever  met  with  ;  so  that  whenever 
he  went  among  strangers,  the  perfect  contrast  between 
his  appearance  and  manner  and  the  strong  manly 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  169 


sense  of  his  pulpit  performances,  excited  the  greatest 
wonderment.  His  friends,  who  knew  his  worth,  and 
who  felt  that  his  eccentricities  of  manner  subtracted 
largely  from  his  usefulness,  sought  to  impress  upon 
him  the  importance  of  correcting  himself  in  these 
matters  ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain,  and  they  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  whatever  change  might  have  been 
wrought  in  his  younger  days,  he  had  passed  the  point 
where  improvement  might  be  expected. 

We  have  dwelt  thus  long  on  this  topic  that  we 
might  present  before  the  young  preachers  the  example 
of  a  great  and  good  man,  who,  with  talents  and  piety 
which  have  placed  him  in  the  front  rank  of  modern 
preachers,  was  yet,  because  of  his  eccentricities  of 
manner,  deprived  of  at  least  half  of  the  distinction  and 
usefulness  to  which  he  would  certainly  have  attained 
but  for  these  drawbacks.  Young  preachers  sometimes 
borrow  from  their  older  brethren  certain  oddities  of 
manner  which  they  regard  as  particularly  striking, 
and  which  they  sedulously  cultivate.  Or  it  may  be 
that  the  young  man  has  some  eccentricity  of  manner 
or  speech  which  he  regards  as  natural  to  him,  and 
which  he  is  apt  to  indulge  in  a  most  luxuriant  growth, 
without  ever  inquiring  whether  its  indulgence  sub- 
tracts from  his  efficiency  as  a  Christian  minister,  and 
these  habits,  thus  uncorrected  in  youth,  in  a  few  years 
take  such  vigorous  root  that  it  is  next  to  impossible 
to  correct  them.  Let  every  young  preacher  in  the 
beginning  of  his  ministry  seek  diligently  to  omit  from 
his  manner  and  speech  whatever  may  tend  to  de- 
tract from  the  dignity  and  efficiency  of  his  ministerial 
character,  and  let  him  maintain  this  struggle  with  the 
*most  determined  energy  and  perseverance  until  he 
8 


I/O 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


succeeds,  for  succeed  he  will,  and  the  fruits  of  his 
victory  will  more  than  repay  him  for  all  his  struggles." 

*  *  T.  L.  Wynn  was  a  young  man  of  good  mind.  With- 
out early  advantages,  he  had  yet,  by  close  application 
to  reading  and  study,  made  himself  a  very  respectable 
preacher.  He  felt  keenly  his  lack  of  early  training, 
and  determined  to  supply  it  by  diligent  application 
to  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  his  profiting  ap- 
peared to  the  people  of  his  charge.  Had  he  lived 
to  old  age  he  might  have  shone  in  the  pulpit  as  a 
man  of  considerable  note,  but  it  pleased  God  to  call 
him,  while  yet  comparatively  young,  from  the  field  of 
his  earthly  toils  and  struggles  to  the  rest  above.  His 
only  surviving  son'  is  now  laboring  successfully  in  the 
California  mission  field,  and  promises  nobly  to  bear 
aloft  the  standard  which  fell  from  the  dying  hands  of 
his  father. 

"  The  country  around  Charleston  for  many  miles  is 
swampy,  abounding  with  ponds,  which,  during  the 
summer  months,  become  pools  of  stagnant  water,  af- 
fording a  fit  habitation  for  frogs  and  alligators,  and 
rendering  the  country  extremely  unfavorable  to  health, 
and  residents  of  the  city  going  into  this  region  and 
remaining  only  for  one  night  after  the  month  of  May, 
were  apt  to  be  attacked  with  country  fever,  a  disease 
usually  attended  with  great  mortality.  Such,  at 
least,  was  the  state  of  things  during  the  time  I  was  on 
the  district.  Whether  the  operation  of  railroads  has 
materially  changed  the  aspect  of  matters  I  cannot  say. 
In  consequence  of  the  prevalence  of  this  opinion  on 

'  The  Rev,  A.  M.  Wynn.  Failing  health  drove  him  to  Georgia 
again,  and  for  nearly  thirty  years  he  has  continued  his  work.  He  is  now 
in  the  South  Georgia  Conference.  , 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


171 


this  subject,  my  friends  felt  no  little  anxiety  on  my 
account,  for  as  my  family  were  obliged  to  remain  in 
the  city,  and  my  duties  required  me  to  spend  most  of 
my  time  in  the  country,  I  was  looked  upon  by  many 
of  the  physicians  and  others  as  a  doomed  man,  yet  I 
went  forward  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  I  lost  no  ap- 
pointments on  this  account.  I  was  in  all  portions  of 
the  sickliest  regions  of  the  country  at  all  seasons  of 
the  year,  and  yet,  I  record  it  with  gratitude  to  God, 
my  health  continued  good,  with  very  slight  excep- 
tions, during  the  whole  time  that  I  was  on  the  district. 

"  As  I  had  been  elected  to  the  General  Conference,  it 
became  necessary  for  me  to  leave  home  in  April  to 
attend  the  session  of  that  body,  which  met  in  the  city 
of  Baltimore.  My  home  at  this  Conference  was  at 
the  house  of  George  Baxley,  who  was  a  flour  in- 
spector and  resided  at  the  corner  of  Howard  and  some 
other  street,  the  name  of  which  I  have  forgotten. 
Brother  and  Sister  Baxley  were  old  Methodists  of  the 
right  stamp.  It  was  a  delightful  home,  especially  as 
I  had  for  my  companion  my  old  friend,  Samuel  K. 
Hodges.  In  the  bosom  of  this  kind  family  I  not  only 
found  a  cordial  welcome  and  a  happy  home  during  the 
General  Conference,  but  ever  afterward,  when  I  visited 
Baltimore,  I  knew  where  to  meet  with  a  most  kindly 
greeting. 

''The  Conference  proceeded  with  business  in  its 
usual  style.  An  attempt  was  made  to  give  life  to  the 
suspended  resolutions  of  the  preceding  General  Confer- 
ence, and  the  subject  was  taken  up  and  discussed  with 
the  usual  amount  of  thunder  and  lightning  and  start- 
ling prophecy  of  coming  ruin  unless  things  were 
changed.    But  we  had  had  these  ghosts  of  desolation 


172 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


conjured  up  before  us  so  often,  that  we  had  gotten 
used  to  them,  and  found  them  perfectly  harmless. 
So  we  quietly  entombed  them  in  the  sepulchre  of 
suspension  for  four  years  more  and  proceeded  to 
other  business.  I  have  in  a  prior  number  referred 
to  a  pamphlet  written  by  several  of  Joshua  Soule's 
colleagues  from  Baltimore  in  the  previous  General 
Conference.  This  rather  stealthy  productign  was 
calculated,  probably  designed,  to  present  the  conduct 
of  Mr.  Soule  in  such  a  light  to  the  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence as  to  prevent  his  return  as  a  delegate  from  that 
to  the  approaching  General  Conference.  If  such  was 
the  design,  however,  it  signally  failed.  Mr.  Soule 
met  his  opponents  face  to  face  on  the  floor  of  the 
Annual  Conference,  and  such  was  his  triumphant  vin- 
dication of  his  own  course  and  his  expos^  of  the  policy 
of  his  opponents,  that  himself  and  his  friends  were 
elected  to  the  General  Conference  by  a  large  majority. 

"It  being  judged  necessary  to  elect  two  additional 
Bishops,  the  choice  of  the  Conference  fell  on  Joshua 
Soule  and  Elijah  Hedding — a  fortunate  selection  in 
both  cases.  The  latter,  having  served  the  Church  faith- 
fully, has,  in  the  course  of  the  last  twelve  months, 
passed  safely  and  happily  from  earth  to  rest  with  God. 
Bishop  Soule,  after  taking  a  prominent  and  decided 
part  in  the  exciting  occurrences  of  the  past  few  years, 
still  lives  to  bless  and  guide  the  counsels  of  the  Church 
of  his  choice  with  his  advice  and  example.  But  it  is 
useless  to  speak  of  him  ;  his  acts  are  before  the  public, 
and  when  he  shall  have  passed  away,  the  record  of 
those  acts  will  be  his  best  biography.' 


1853. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


173 


"The  revolutionary  movements  which  subsequently 
affected  the  Church  were  already  exciting  a  good  deal 
of  interest  in  and  around  Baltimore,  and  organizations 
were  rife  whose  intent  was  to  overthrow  the  princi- 
ples and  policy  of  the  Methodist  Church  government, 
with  the  alleged  design  of  rendering  our  ecclesiastical 
policy  more  in  accordance  with  free  democratic  insti- 
tutions of  the  State.  The  painful  results  which  fol- 
lowed in  the  next  ten  years  are  matters  of  historic 
record,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  notice  these  now,  any 
further  than  to  say  that  after  all  the  eloquent  and 
bitter  things  spoken  and  written  against  the  trav- 
eling preachers  and  the  General  Conference  for  not 
granting  the  changes  asked  for,  I  think  it  would  be 
very  difficult  for  any  sober,  sensible  man  to  say  they 
could  have  done  otherwise  than  they  did  without  a 
violation  of  the  sacred  right  of  a  majority  to  govern." 

We  have  only  one  letter  of  this  year,  and  that  is 
from  the  good  wife  to  her  parents. 

Charleston,  May  27,  1824, 

My  Beloved  Parents  : 

"  I  wrote  to  you  some  time  since,  but  having  re- 
ceived no  answer,  I  will  try  once  more  in  the  hope  that 
you  may  be  prevailed  upon  to  write.  I  received  to-day 
the  fourth  affectionate  letter  from  my  beloved  hus- 
band ;  his  health  was  but  indifferent.  I  may  expect 
him  home  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  I  should  be 
extremely  glad  to  receive  a  letter  from  you  while 
he  is  here.  He  will  stay  only  two  or  three  weeks, 
and  will  then  go  around  the  district ;  he  will  be  ab- 
sent about  six  weeks.  Oh,  my  parents,  pray  that  his 
health  may  be  preserved  through  the  sickly  season. 


174 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Sometimes  my  faith  is  almost  ready  to  fail  and  dis- 
trust the  goodness  of  God.  But  I  try  to  cast  all  my 
care  upon  the  Almighty  arm,  which  has  supported  and 
directed  us  so  far.  .  .  .  Our  religious  prospects 
in  this  place  are  rather  encouraging  than  otherwise, 
though  one  of  our  preachers  is  sick  and  unable  to 
preach,  another  not  very  hearty,  and  yet  another 
away,  so  that  Brother  Howard  is  the  only  stationed 
preacher  here  at  present  who  is  able  to  preach  much 
without  injuring  himself. 

"I  hope,  my  dear  parents,  your  long  silence  has 
not  proceeded  from  affliction  or  any  other  distressing 
cause.  Do  write  soon,  for  I  know  it  will  worry  Mr. 
Andrew  exceedingly  if  he  should  not  hear  from  you 
when  he  returns.  Remember  me  affectionately  to  the 
family  and  friends.  Oh,  when  shall  we  meet  again  in 
this  vale  of  tears  ?  perhaps  never ;  if  so  I  feel  I  shall 
meet  you  in  that  place  where  tears  shall  be  wiped 
away  and  our  souls  be  at  rest  forever. 

"  I  remain,  my  dear  parents,  your  ever  affectionate 
daughter, 

"A.  A.  Andrew." 

Blessed  woman  !  Bravely  toiling  to  keep  her  hus- 
band in  his  work.  Almost  fainting,  but  still  keeping 
her  eyes  heavenward,  and  trusting  all  the  time. 

Conference  met  in  Fayetteville,  January  20,  1825. 
Of  this  year  we  have  no  information  other  than  that 
the  minutes  give  us.  There  were  some  changes  in 
district  lines,  and  Andrew  gave  up  Savannah  to  Ro- 
bert Flournoy,  and  took  Georgetown  into  his  district. 
He  has  only  nine  appointments  in  all,  but  they  cover 
all  of  Eastern  South  CaroHna.    William  Capers  now 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


175 


came  to  Charleston  and  was  placed  in  charge.  Ste- 
phen Olin  was  again  appointed,  but  only  to  do  what 
he  could.  It  was  expected  that  he  would  edit  the 
Weslcyan  Joitrnal,  which  was  the  first  Methodist 
weekly  in  the  Southern  country,  and  only  four  years 
younger  than  the  oldest  in  the  United  States.  Capers 
and  Andrew  had  been  close  after  each  other.  Andrew 
followed  Capers  to  Wilmington,  to  Savannah,  and  to 
Columbia,  but  they  had  never  been  associated  until 
now.  The  friendship  between  a  Presiding  Elder  and 
his  associates  in  the  pastoral  work  ought  to  be  of  the 
tenderest  and  closest  kind,  and  such,  we  know,  was 
the  relation  between  Capers  and  Andrew.  How 
closely  their  lives  were  linked  together  !  They  were 
each  on  the  same  stations  ;  each  was  the  Presiding 
Elder  of  the  other  ;  when  Andrew  was  Bishop,  Ca- 
pers was  Missionary  Secretary,  and  they  lived  in  the 
same  village,  and  their  homes  adjoined.  They  were 
Bishops  together  in  the  Southern  Church,  and  while, 
as  we  have  said,  no  men  could  have  differed  more, 
yet  how  tenderly  they  loved  each  other.  Their  fami- 
lies were  as  closely  united.  One  day  they  were  to- 
gether, and  Capers  said  to  Andrew,  James,  how 
is  it,  when  I  preach  your  wife  gets  happy,  and  when 
you  preach  my  wife  gets  happy  ;  but  my  wife  never 
gets  happy  when  I  preach,  nor  yours  when  you  preach. 
Why  is  this?" 

"Well,"  said  Andrew,  well,  William,  it  is  because 
they  know  us  so  well." 

In  the  spring  of  1826  he  wrote  from  Orangeburg 
the  only  letter  I  have  been  able,  to  find  for  this  year. 
It  is  to  his  "  ever  dear  Amelia."    He  says  in  it  : 

I  left  you  on  Wednesday  morning,  as  I  always 


176 


The  Life  mid  Lettei's  of 


do,  with  a  heavy  heart.  The  idea  that  I  was  to  be 
separated  for  four  weeks  from  my  own  Amelia  and  my 
dear  children  caused  me  a  lonesome  ride.  Perhaps,  as 
a  Christian  minister  going  on  errands  of  love  and  duty, 
I  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  this  weakness.  I  ought  not 
to  call  anything  which  I  can  do  or  forego  a  sacrifice, 
when  I  remember  how  much  my  gracious  Lord  has 
done  and  suffered  for  me,  and  recollect,  too,  what 
many  holy  men  have  lost  and  suffered  for  Christ.  I 
ought  not  to  say  one  word  about  my  trials  and  sacri- 
fices, for  they  have  been  as  nothing,  and,  in  fact,  I 
am  not  in  the  habit  of  speaking  about  these  matters. 
There  is  but  one  privation  in  all  my  lot  which  I  feel, 
and  that  is  the  loss  of  my  Amelia's  company  and  the 
separation  from  my  dear  little  girls.  I  will  say  to  my 
fond,  foolish  heart,  '  Cease  thy  fluttering  anxiety ;  com- 
mit to  the  care  of  thy  God  those  so  deservedly  dear 
to  thee,  and  go  on  and  perform  thy  Master's  work.' 
Oh  !  would  that  this  heart  obey  as  easily  as  I  write 
the  command  upon  paper  !  " 

In  his  usual  graphic  style,  but  without  any  flourish, 
he  gives  in  his  reminiscences  an  account  of  the  yellow 
fever  in  Charleston.  To  one  who  has  never  been  ex- 
posed to  this  fearful  pestilence  no  true  idea  of  its  horror 
can  be  conveyed.  There  is  first  a  rumor  that  it  has 
come.  As  soon  as  that  rumor  is  confirmed  all  who  are 
able  and  at  liberty  to  go,  flee  to  some  place  of  safety. 
The  physician  and  faithful  minister  remain  at  their 
posts.  The  houses  of  business  are  closed  ;  the  grass 
begins  to  grow  in  the  streets  ;  the  churches  are  open 
and  a  few  earnest  worshippers  attend  the  services.  The 
negroes  in  those  days  generally  escaped,  but  into  almost 
every  family  of  whites  the  stealthy  pestilence  creeps. 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  177 

By  night  and  day  the  calls  for  the  pastor  are  made  ; 
church  lines  are  blotted  out  ;  Catholic  and  Protestant 
work  side  by  side  ;  want  goes  hand  in  hand  with  dis- 
ease ;  wives  are  widowed  ;  husbands  made  wifeless  ; 
children  orphaned.  The  fever  came  to  Charleston,  and 
William  Capers  was  stricken  down.  His  faithful  col- 
league watched  beside  him  till  hope  fled.  Then  Cas- 
tile Selby,  an  old  colored  man,  came  to  the  bedside 
of  his  dying  pastor,  and  at  his  request  the  old  man 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall  and  prayed.  God  in  mercy 
heard.  The  tide  of  disease  was  stayed,  then  ebbed, 
and  the  preacher  was  borne  from  the  mouth  of  the 
grave  back  to  life. 

Andrew  tells  the  story  of  his  own  attack  and  won- 
derful recovery.  Why  did  he  not  leave  the  pestilence- 
swept  city?  When,  some  years  ago,  the  question  was 
being  discussed  as  to  whether  the  preacher  should 
flee  from  a  pestilence  when  the  physician  remained  to 
battle  with  it,  and  sadly  enough  some  said  aye,  one 
of  the  most  indignant  nays  was  from  James  O.  An- 
drew, Jr.,  the  son  of  Bishop  James  O.  Andrew.  In 
those  heroic  days  it  was  not  a  question  for  discus- 
sion. Death  at  one's  post  if  need  be,  but  flight  from 
it — NEVER  ! 

Three  years  on  the  district  had  gone,  and  he  was 
now  to  exchange  places  with  William  Capers,  who 
had  been  on  the  station,  and  in  1827  he  was  sent  to 
Charleston.    He  says  in  his  reminiscences  : 

"My  colleagues  this  year  (1827)  were  Henry  Bass 
and  Noah  Laney.  Brother  Laney  married,  and  be- 
fore many  years  located.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
good  mind  and  an  acceptable  preacher.  He  subse- 
quently settled  on  a  plantation  in  Alabama,  and  died 
8* 


1/8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


an  estimable  local  preacher.  Of  our  excellent  friend, 
Brother  Bass  (who  still  lives),  I  may  only  say  that  he 
was  just  a  colleague  after  my  own  heart — deeply  de- 
voted and  faithful  to  God  and  his  charge  ;  always 
ready  to  work,  without  fearing  he  would  be  called  on 
to  perform  more  than  his  proper  share  of  labor.  We 
passed  a  peaceful  and  happy  year  together ;  and  the 
Church  prospered  under  our  ministrations.  During 
this  year  Charleston  was  visited  with  yellow  fever, 
that  fearful  scourge  which  so  frequently  in  former 
years  clothed  our  people  in  the  habiliments  of  mourn- 
ing. The  disease  prevailed  extensively,  and  many  a 
family  was  made  sad  by  the  visits  of  the  angel  of 
death.  Among  those  who  were  sorely  smitten  by  the 
disease  was  my  good  friend,  Dr.  Capers,  Presiding 
Elder  of  the  district.  His  attack  was  severe,  and  for 
several  days  his  recovery  was  doubtful ;  but  it  pleased 
God  to  raise  him  up  to  his  family  and  the  Church.  I 
had  been  privileged  to  watch  beside  his  sick-bed  until 
he  was  able  to  sit  up  and  ride  out ;  I  was  then  stricken 
down  myself,  and  was  brought  apparently  very  near 
the  gates  of  death.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  sufferings 
of  that  week.  For  several  days  I  lay  panting  with 
fever,  my  stomach  rejecting  everything  ;  and,  oh,  the 
horrible  feelings  of  those  long,  hot  days  of  fever  and 
nights  of  sleepless  agony  !  For  nearly  or  quite  a  week 
this  continued,  and  my  friends  had  little  hope  of  my 
recovery  ;  indeed,  I  had  black  vomit ;  yet  prayer  was 
made  continually  to  God  for  me,  and  deliverance  came 
when  hope  had  well-nigh  failed.  I  had,  throughout 
my  sickness,  an  unaccountable  desire  for  bottled  cider, 
and  this  wish  was  made  known  to  my  physician,  Dr. 
S.,  who,  for  some  time,  paid  no  attention  to  it ;  finally, 


yaines  Osgood  Andrew. 


179 


however,  upon  my  continuing  to  urge  it,  he  said  to 
my  wife,  in  hi^  usual  abrupt  style,  '  Give  it  to  him 
if  it  kills  him.'  I  heard  the  remark,  and  feebly  re- 
sponded, 'I'll  risk  it,  for  I  shall  die  anyhow.'  The 
doctor  then  proposed  that  I  should  substitute  porter 
for  cider,  to  which  I  assented.  The  porter  was  pro- 
cured, and  I  swallowed  a  glass  of  it.  The  effect  was 
instantaneous.  From  that  moment  I  was  relieved. 
In  a  few  moments  I  was  in  a  sweet,  refreshing  slumber, 
the  first  of  which  I  had  been  conscious  for  a  week. 
By  morning  the  bottle  was  nearly  empty,  and  when 
the  doctor  came  to  visit  me,  instead  of  finding  me 
dead,  he  found  me,  as  stated,  a  greatdeal  better. 

From  that  time  I  steadily  and  rapidly  improved  ; 
and  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  was  again  able  to 
take  my  place  in  the  pulpit.  My  house  had  been  a 
hospital ;  every  one  of  my  children  having  been  sick 
of  the  same  disease.  Yet  God  in  mercy  sustained  and 
strengthened  my  devoted  wife,  so  that  she  was  able 
to  bear  up  under  all  the  fatigue  and  cares  with 
which  the  afifliction  of  the  household  necessarily  bur- 
dened her  :  always  at  her  post,  cheerful  and  self-pos- 
sessed, neither  voice  nor  countenance  gave  any  indi- 
cation of  the  painful  anxiety  which  was  struggling  in 
her  heart.  Surely  God  was  very  gracious  to  me  and 
mine  ;  for,  although  many  had  been  sick,  yet  none 
had  died.  We  were  all  restored  to  health,  and  with 
grateful  hearts  we  bowed  together  at  the  family  altar, 
to  praise  God  for  his  abundant  goodness  to  us  all. 
The  year  closed  in  peace,  and  I  repaired  to  Con- 
ference. 

**  In  1828  I  was  returned  to  the  station,  with  As- 
bury  Morgan  and  B.  L.  Hoskins  as  my  colleagues. 


i8o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Brother  Morgan  was  a  pleasant  companion,  and  accept- 
able preacher,  a  man  of  amiable,  sweet  spirit,  who 
loved  God  and  the  Church,  and  was  ready  for  every 
good  work.  We  labored  in  great  harmony ;  but  as 
autumn  approached  yellow  fever  again  made  its  ap- 
pearance, and  Brother  Morgan  was  among  its  victims. 
After  several  days  of  illness  he  died,  leaving  a  fond 
wife  and  several  helpless  children  to  mourn  their  early 
bereavement.  May  God  graciously  regard  them,  and 
guide  them  safely  to  a  happy  reunion  with  their  de- 
parted friend.  Brother  Hoskins  married  during  the 
year ;  he  subsequently  located,  and  settled  in  Wil- 
mington, N.  C.  In  consequence  of  some  difficulty  a 
few  years  since,  he  left  the  Church  of  his  early  love  and 
joined  the  Protestant  Methodists,  among  whom  he 
still  labors  as  a  preacher. 

We  had  considerable  prosperity  during  both 
years.  God  favored  us  with  gracious  revivals  of  reli- 
gion, and  a  large  number,  both  among  the  whites 
and  blacks,  were  happily  converted  and  added  to  the 
Church.  This  gracious  work  was  deep  and  extensive, 
especially  among  the  young  men.  Many  of  these 
were  very  zealous  ;  they  held  a  weekly  prayer-meet- 
ing, which  was  signally  blessed  of  God  to  the  awaken- 
ing and  conversion  of  sinners.  The  best  love-feasts 
I  ever  attended  in  Charleston  were  held  in  1828. 
During  the  same  period  we  established  a  flourish- 
ing Sabbath-school  for  the  colored  people.  There 
had  been  one  on  a  small  scale  many  years  before,  but 
it  had  died  out,  and  for  several  years  no  attempt  had 
been  made  to  resuscitate  it,  because,  as  was  alleged 
by  some  faint  hearts,  the  public  sentiment  was  against 
it,  and  any  attempt  of  the  sort  would  be  put  down  by 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  i8i 

the  hand  of  violence.  About  this,  however,  I  had 
my  doubts ;  and  as  I  felt  that  the  school  was  needed, 
and  if  it  was  right  God  would  sustain  us  in  it,  I  re- 
solved to  try.  A  few  of  the  whites  came  forward  to 
aid  me  in  the  work,  but  my  principal  dependence  for 
teachers  was  upon  the  intelligent  blacks  themselves, 
many  of  whom  took  great  delight  in  aiding  me  in  the 
important  work  upon  which  I  had  entered,  and  very 
valuable  assistance  they  rendered  me.  Our  plan  was 
to  meet  in  old  Cumberland  church  every  Sunday  morn- 
ing. I  was  Superintendent,  and  took  an  active  part  in 
instructing  the  children  who  were  marshalled  in  the 
galleries  under  the  charge  of  their  respective  teachers. 
We  endeavored  to  conduct  matters  prudently,  and,  just 
as  I  expected,  nobody  troubled  us  ;  nay,  many  of  the 
wealthy  of  the  city  encouraged  us  by  sending  their 
little  negroes  to  our  school,  where  we  used  to  collect 
every  Sabbath  morning  from  three  hundred  to  four 
hundred  of  them,  to  whom  we  imparted  such  instruc- 
tion as  we  hoped  would  tend  to  their  salvation. 

I  recollect  that  during  the  year  Bishop  McKen- 
dree  visited  Charleston,  and  on  Sabbath  mornings  I 
conducted  him  to  old  Cumberland,  that  he  might  wit- 
ness the  operations  of  my  Sabbath-school.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  look  of  delight  with  which  the  vener- 
able man  of  God  regarded  the  four  hundred  little 
negroes  before  him  ;  nor  the  deep  interest  with  which 
he  spoke  of  that  school  during  the  whole  time  of  his 
stay  among  us.  When  I  left  the  station  this  school 
was  doing  well  in  every  sense,  and  I  dare  say  has  con- 
tinued to  do  so,  if  the  preachers  who  have  been  for 
successive  years  the  pastors  of  the  church  have  been 
industrious  and  self-denying  enough  to  work  for  God, 


l82 


TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 


and  have  been  less  anxious  to  promote  their  own  than 
God's  glory. 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  noticed  that  in  the 
month  of  April,  in  company  with  a  number  of  the 
delegates  from  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  I  sailed 
for  New  York,  on  our  way  to  the  General  Conference 
at  Pittsburgh  ;  but  of  this,  more  hereafter." 

To  establish  a  Sunday-school  for  negroes  in 
Charleston,  and  to  superintend  it  himself,  was  surely  a 
practical  way  of  showing  his  love  for  the  colored 
people,  a  love  that,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  never 
knew  abatement.  His  zeal  for  the  conversion  of  the 
negroes  to  God  and  his  personal  efforts  to  secure  it, 
perhaps,  has  never  been  equalled,  and  certainly  not 
surpassed.  After  his  day,  the  white  and  colored  people 
in  Charleston  were  placed  in  different  charges,  but  now 
he  had  thousands  of  negroes  under  his  care  and  direc- 
tion. He  was  elected  at  Conference,  in  January,  to 
go  to  Pittsburgh  to  the  General  Conference,  which  met 
there  in  May.  He  gives  in  his  reminiscences  an 
account  of  this  journey.  It  was  no  small  task  to  get 
to  Pittsburgh  from  Charleston  by  any  conveyance  ;  by 
stage  it  required  about  two  weeks  of  constant  riding. 
He  went  by  ship  to  New  York. 

"  We  reached  New  York  in  safety,  and  there  our 
company  divided,  a  portion  of  them  going  by  way  of 
Philadelphia,  while  R.  Adams  and  myself  determined 
to  go  by  way  of  Niagara  Falls.  On  our  way  up  the 
North  River  we  stopped  a  day  at  Newburgh  to  visit 
the  Rev.  T.  Mason,  who  then  resided  there.  From 
thence  we  journeyed  up  the  river  to  Albany,  and  took 
the  great  Erie  Canal  as  far  as  Rochester,  and  from 
thence  by  stage  to  the  Falls.    Unfortunately  we  had 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


183 


only  a  few  hours  to  spare  for  the  contemplation  of  this 
wonderful  work  of  God.  We  did  not  cross  into  Can- 
ada, and  consequently  did  not,  I  suppose,  see  it  in  all 
its  glory  ;  but  I  saw  enough  to  impress  me  deeply 
with  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  the  scene.  Yet  I 
wrote  no  poetry,  nor  did  I  attempt  any  description  of 
it  or  of  the  impressions  it  produced  on  my  mind,  nor 
do  I  suppose  I  should  ever  essay  to  write  a  chapter 
about  Niagara  were  I  to  visit  it  twenty  times.  The 
subject  is  too  mighty  for  my  pen  or  pencil.  I  have, 
since  my  visit  to  it,  read  many  glowing  attempts  to 
describe  it  in  prose  and  verse  by  men  and  women  va- 
riously gifted,  but  they  all  seemed  to  me  miserable 
failures.  The  scene  does  not  admit  of  adequate  de- 
scription. 

"  From  the  Falls  we  took  stage  for  Buffalo,  but 
after  going  as  far  as  Tonawanda,  I  discovered  that  in 
changing  stages  at  the  Falls  my  trunk  had  been  left 
behind,  so  there  was  no  alternative  but  for  me  to  re- 
turn in  search  of  it.  After  some  little  delay  and  diffi- 
culty I  succeeded  in  hiring  a  youth  to  take  me  back  in 
a  cart  which  he  was  wont  to  use  for  every  sort  of  pur- 
pose, from  carrying  passengers  to  hauling  manure. 
My  young  friend  was  very  communicative,  and  led  me 
into  the  secret  history  of  more  than  one  of  the  notables 
of  Tonawanda  ;  and  if  he  did  not  belie  them,  they  did 
not  fail  to  profit  by  their  contiguity  to  Canada,  even 
at  Uncle  Sam's  expense.  I  returned  in  time  to  spend 
the  night  in  this  staid  town,  having  without  difficulty 
recovered  my  trunk,  and  next  morning  we  again  took 
our  places  in  the  stage  and  urged  our  way  to  Buffalo, 
a  place  then  beginning  to  attract  considerable  atten- 
tion, and  which  has  since  fully  redeemed  the  pledge 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


of  its  earlier  promise.  Here  we  tarried  for  a  day  or 
two,  and  then  took  a  Lake  Erie  steamer  for  Dunkirk 
or  Erie,  I  do  not  now  distinctly  remember  which,  where 
we  again  entered  the  stage,  and  continued  that  mode 
of  conveyance  all  the  way  to  Pittsburgh.  But  oh  such 
roads  and  such  traveling  !  The  freeze  of  the  previous 
winter  was  just  breaking  up,  and  the  roads  were  con- 
sequently just  about  as  bad  as  deep  mud  could  make 
them.  We  had  noble  teams  and  good  drivers,  and 
yet  we  often  found  it  difficult  to  make  two  miles  per 
hour.  At  length,  however,  after  much  tribulation,  we 
reached  the  city  of  smoke  and  furnaces  with  whole 
bones. 

"  There  was  a  pretty  full  attendance  of  delegates, 
and  the  business  of  the  General  Conference  went  on 
about  as  usual.  During  this  session  the  celebrated 
suspended  resolutions  were  formally  repealed,  only 
one  or  two  venturing  to  defend  them.  There  was  also 
considerable  discussion  about  Canada  affairs.  Some 
year  or  two  prior  to  this  time  Bishop  Soule  had 
preached  before  the  South  Carolina  Conference  at 
Augusta,  Ga.,  on  the  *  Law  of  Liberty.'  This  discourse 
had  been  published  by  request  of  the  Conference. 
Some  of  the  positions  taken  in  his  sermon  were  held  in 
no  little  disfavor  in  various  quarters.  It  was  assailed 
by  the  Presbyterian  press  of  Charleston,  and  to 
these  animadversions  there  was  a  reply  written  by 
Rev.  W.  Capers.  We  learned,  on  our  arrival  at 
Pittsburgh,  that  the  sermon  had  given  considerable 
dissatisfaction  to  a  good  many  of  the  Northern  and 
Eastern  preachers,  among  the  rest  Wilbur  Fisk,  who 
maintained  that  several  of  its  portions  were  anti- 
Methodistic.    It  was  rumored  that  the  Bishop  would 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


i85 


be  arraigned  before  the  Conference  on  a  charge  of 
heresy  in  doctrine,  which  was,  in  fact,  attempted  to- 
ward the  close  of  the  session  ;  but  I  think  the  move- 
ment resulted  in  the  disappointment  of  its  authors. 

"  At  this  Conference  Dr.  Capers  was  appointed  our 
delegate  to  England,  quite  against  the  wishes  and  ef- 
forts of  not  a  few  abolition  brethren,  who  seemed  to 
regard  all  contact  with  slaveholders  by  way  of  pro- 
motion, especially  where  there  was  either  honor  or 
profit  concerned,  as  a  most  horrible  matter.  In  con- 
sequence of  his  selection  for  this  foreign  mission, 
Brother  Capers  left  Pittsburgh  several  days  before  the 
close  of  the  session,  and  as  I  had  a  sick  child  at  home, 
I  determined  to  bear  him  company.  After  a  fatiguing 
ride  we  reached  Charleston  ;  but,  alas,  before  I  got  to 
the  parsonage  I  learned  that  my  sweet  little  Ann 
Amelia  was  in  the  grave.  I  had  been  denied  even  the 
sad  privilege  of  seeing  her  die  ;  but  God  had  taken 
her,  and  I  murmured  not.  Her  precious  body  was 
committed  to  the  dust  in  the  Bethel  church-yard;  but 
when,  on  a  recent  visit  to  the  cemetery,  I  sought 
anxiously  to  identify  the  spot,  it  could  not  be  done. 

And  now  the  period  approached  when  I  was  to 
dissolve  the  ties  which  bound  me  to  my  beloved  flock 
in  Charleston.  My  two  years  among  them  were  draw- 
ing to  a  close — two  years  of  affliction,  painful  anxiety, 
and  much  toil,  yet  they  had  been  years  of  great  peace 
.  and  comfort.  God  had  greatly  prospered  the  labors 
of  my  colleagues  and  myself ;  the  Church  had  largely 
advanced  in  numbers  and  in  piety  ;  a  large  number  of 
young  persons  had  been  added  to  our  ranks  ;  we  had 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  two  excellent  camp-meetings  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  c;ity,  which  were  emphatically 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  Charleston  camp-meetings  ;  and  to  crown  all,  when 
the  year  closed,  and  I  took  my  leave,  I  had  every 
reason  to  believe  the  Church  was  in  peace." 

In  May  John  Andrew  wrote  a  letter  to  his  son 
which  the  reader  shall  have.  It  is  very  beautifully 
written  in  a  clear,  strong  hand,  and  is  in  accord  with 
all  the  requirements  of  the  schools.  John  Andrew 
was  quite  seventy  years  old,  and  was  living  in  Clarke 
County,  north  from  Watkinsville,  at  a  little  hamlet 
called  Mt.  Zion. 

From  JOHN  ANDREW. 

"  Mt.  Zion,  Ga.,  March  14,  1828. 

My  Dear  Son  : 
We  received  your  welcome  letter  from  Conference, 
and  yet  you  owe  us  two  more,  which  I  expect  you 
never  intended  to  pay.  I  am  glad  to  hear  of  the  good 
results  of  the  Conference,  and  look  forward  to  the 
success  of  the  Gospel  this  year  without  doubt,  and 
with  pleasing  anticipation.  Now,  my  son,  I  rejoice  in 
having  preachers  sent  us,  yet  I  wished  to  have  had 
Brother  Wightman ;  but  God's  will  be  done  !  Another 
great  desire  and  expectation  was  to  have  you  near  us, 
a  blessing  the  Conference  has  never  granted  us,  and  I 
feel  I  had  a  right  to  expect  and  wish  it.  If  I  knew 
certainly  it  was  the  will  of  my  Divine  Master  to  keep 
you  in  that  station,  I  would  most  cheerfully  submit, 
but  I  do  think  sometimes  that  some  appointments  are 
not  ordered  of  God.  In  this  instance  of  your  appoint- 
ment to  Charleston  I  can't  see  clearly  the  propriety 
or  the  benefit.  I  fear  it  has  been  done  to  keep  you 
engaged  in  that  controversy  with  a  certain  somebody 
— I  don't  know  who — and  I  ^ion't  like  your  being  con- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


cerned  in  the  crooked  affair  ;  persecution,  or  lies,  or 
whatever  it  may  be  termed  can  never  hurt  the  Meth- 
odist cause,  if  we  are  faithfully  engaged,  and  all  that 
you  can  write  will  never  convince  those  who  are  pre- 
determined to  continue  in  their  own  opinions.  Bishop 
Soule's  sermon  speaks  for  itself;  they  never  can  de- 
stroy the  truths  contained  therein.  'Tis  a  sense  of 
those  truths,  all-important,  that  rouses  their  thunders. 
Why,  I  have  long  known  that  to  preach  holiness  and 
to  urge  the  necessity  of  it  is  to  insult  the  Calvinist, 
rouse  the  devil,  and  create  enemies  by  numbers.  'Tis 
true  I  may  not  understand  the  matter  rightly,  but  I 
do  think  we  should  be  very  cautious  how  we  concern 
ourselves  with  these  controversial  subjects ;  at  any  rate 
I  wish  you  to  be  little  engaged  in  such.  I  confess  I 
am  liable  to  err,  and  I  know  I  would  not  for  thousands 
of  worlds  injure  that  sacred  cause.  I  wish  to  say- 
nothing  that  will  influence  your  conduct  in  any  way 
that  is  wrong  ;  but,  my  dear  James,  we  feel  tenderly 
for  your  reputation  as  a  minister,  as  a  Christian,  and 
as  a  child  ;  however,  then,  you  may  smile  at  our  fears, 
remember  'tis  possible  you  may  be  wrong.  I  have 
done.  Only  one  expression  more  :  if  you  continue  in 
the  war,  be  mild,  avoid  reproachful  expressions 
toward  your  adversary.  Do  not  wound  your  enemy 
by  harshness  or  severity,  but  ever  show  the  meekness 
of  the  Lamb,  trying  to  convince  rather  than  to  beat 
down.  I  said  we  feel,  because  your  mother  makes 
the  same  request  of  you. 

My  son,  I  am  now  done  with  those  (to  me)  disa- 
greeable matters.  Your  tender  mother  says  you  must 
write  to  us  before  you  go  to  Conference,  and  tell  our 
dear  Amelia  she  must  write  as  soon  as  you  write  to 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


her  from  Conference.  So  must  Elizabeth  write  to  us. 
We  have  enjoyed  good  health  as  a  family,  and  have 
been  much  blessed.  I  am  now,  as  I  generally  am, 
neither  sick  nor  entirely  well,  but  I  feel  thankful  for 
my  religious  enjoyment.  God  is  near  to  me.  I  am 
waiting,  expecting  my  change  to  come.  I  commonly 
enjoy  tolerable  health.  Your  dear  mother  has  had 
some  small  attacks,  but  not  severe.  She  now  enjoys 
health.  The  children  are,  I  believe,  all  well.  In 
society  we  are  still  dull,  yet  we  have  had  some 
additions.  Remember  us  to  our  Amelia,  and  the 
children,  and  to  every  friend  of  ours  or  yours.  All 
join  me  in  love  to  you  all.  Adieu  !  I  am  in  affec- 
tion, 

**  Sincerely  yours, 

John  Andrew." 

The  son  replies : 

"  Charleston,  April  1 1,  1828. 

My  Dear  Father  : 

"  Your  affectionate  epistle  was  received  a  few  days 
since,  and  I  was  greatly  rejoiced  to  hear  of  your  health, 
and  the  peace  and  comfort  with  which  the  Lord  favors 
you.  It  would  afford  me  unspeakable  pleasure  to 
surround  your  table  with  my  wife  and  little  ones  once 
more,  and  I  still  look  forward  to  the  time  when  I  shall 
enjoy  that  satisfaction.  In  reference  to  your  remarks 
about  my  appointment  in  connection  with  the  Charles- 
ton controversy,  I  have  only  to  say  that  neither  the 
appointment  nor  a  participation  in  the  controversy 
were  sought  by  me,  and  I  believe  that  whatever  I  may 
have  contributed  toward  carrying  on  the  quarrel  has 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  189 

been  in  strict  accordance  with  the  character  of  the 
Gospel.  I  shall  endeavor  not  to  sink  the  character  of 
the  minister  in  the  work  of  the  controversy.  Still  con- 
tinue to  pray  for  me  that  I  may  be  kept  from  evil. 
Since  my  return  from  Conference  I  have  had  some 
reason  to  believe  that  God  has  sent  me  here.  The 
Church  is  in  a  comfortable  state.  Little  more  than  a 
week  since  we  held  one  of  the  greatest  camp-meetings 
ever  seen  in  this  neighborhood.  Twenty  persons 
joined  at  our  last  love-feast.  The  meeting  was  just 
noisy  enough  to  have  suited  you,  and  I  am  sure  if  you 
had  been  there  you  would  have  seen  that  Charleston 
people  were  not  afraid  of  noise.  My  dear  Amelia's 
health  has  not  been  good  for  some  time  past,  but  she 
is  a  little  improved  within  a  few  days.  Elizabeth, 
Sarah,  and  Henrietta  go  to  school  and  all  learn  finely. 
Henrietta  and  Sarah  both  can  read,  and  Elizabeth 
learns  her  grammar,  geography,  and  French  pretty 
well.  Little  Ann  Amelia  is  fat  and  hearty,  except  a 
bad  cough,  which  makes  her  rather  fretful.  On  Mon- 
day morning  we  expect  to  sail  for  New  York  on  board 
the  ship  Saluda,  Captain  Jennings,  the  following 
brethren  accompanying,  viz.:  L.  Pierce,  W.  Capers, 
H.  Bass,  G.  Hill,  E.  Sinclair,  William  M.  Kennedy, 
and  R.  Adams.  We  shall  go  to  New  York,  thence 
by  the  way  of  Albany  and  Lake  Erie  to  'Pittsburgh. 
Pray  for  us.  Amelia  and  all  unite  in  love  to  you.  I 
am  in  haste  and  must  conclude.  You  shall  hear  from 
me  again  in  Pittsburgh,  God  willing.  My  love  to  all, 
and  beheve  me, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 


190 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


On  his  way  to  the  General  Conference  he  wrote  his 
wife : 

*'  On  board  Ship  Saluda,  inside  Sandy  Hook, 
♦'April  22,  1828. 

**My  Ever  Dear  Amelia: 

"It  is  quite  late  at  night,  and  all  is  quiet  in  the 
ship  save  the  howling  of  the  winds  through  the 
shrouds  and  the  footsteps  of  the  watch  on  deck.  I 
know  your  anxiety  to  hear  from  me,  and  that  you  will 
be  glad  to  receive  even  a  hasty  scrawl  from  your  own 
Andrew.  I  therefore  write  you  these  few  Hnes  to- 
night that  I  may  not  miss  to-morrow's  tnail.  We 
have  just  cast  anchor  here  tliis  evening,  after  one  of 
the  most  stormy  passages  which  our  captain  says  he 
has  ever  experienced.  We  have  had  a  succession  of 
violent  gales.  Ever  since  we  left  Charleston  we  have 
been  in  imminent  danger.  We  have  heard  of  the  loss 
of  some  vessels  on  this  coast,  yet,  thanks  be  to  God, 
we  have  all  been  preserved  in  safety.  May  our  grati- 
tude be  commensurate  with  our  obligations.  I  have 
been  sick  most  of  the  way,  but  find  myself  improving. 
Please  say  to  Brother  Adams'  friends  that  he  is  doing 
pretty  well,  and  so,  in  fact,  are  all  our  company.  In 
the  midst  of  our  dangers  my  mind  was  kept  in  perfect 
peace  ;  I  felt  no  alarm.  These  words  were  constantly 
in  my  mind,  *  God  is  here,'  and  the  thought  afforded 
me  unspeakable  pleasure.  Occasionally,  indeed,  when 
I  thought  of  home,  and  my  mind  adverted  to  her 
who  is  the  centre  of  my  earthly  comforts,  and  to  my 
precious  children,  a  pang  would  cross  my  mind  ;  but 
why  should  it  ?  My  own  Amelia  and  my  dear  chil- 
dren are  with  God,  and  he  can  protect,  and  bless,  and 
keep.    My  dear  wife,  need  I  say,  pray  for  me ;  I 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


191 


know  you  don't  forget  me.  I  desire  above  all  things  to 
see  you  alive  to  God,  and  with  you  to  rejoice  in  the 
full  influence  of  sanctifying  grace.  My  beloved  wife, 
do  be  careful  of  your  health ;  you  know  how  dear 
you  are  to  me  ;  for  my  sake,  be  not  prodigal  of  your 
strength.    But  'tis  time  to  close  my  hasty  epistle." 

There  was  a  pang  in  store  for  him  of  which  he  had 
no  thought.  He  had  been  in  Pittsburgh  not  more 
than  a  week  when  his  darling  babe  Amelia  was  taken 
from  him.  She  was  but  a  babe — a  babe  of  but  little 
over  a  year  old — but  she  was  his  babe. 

And  she  is  in  her  grave;  and  oh  !  the  difference  to  me." 

His  stricken  wife  wrote  the  following  be'autiful  let- 
ter to  her  parents : 

"Charleston,  May  11,  1828. 
"  I  trust  my  dear  parents  are  blessed  with  health 
and  comfort,  and  that  every  member  of  the  family 
shares  with  them  in  temporal  and  spiritual  comforts. 
I  presume  you  received  Mr.  Andrew's  last,  written 
a  short  while  before  he  left  us.  He  sailed  on  the 
14th  ult.,  and  after  a  boisterous  passage  of  eight  days 
arrived  in  safety  in  New  York.  They  met  with  a  suc- 
cession of  storms,  and  once  were  in  imminent  danger 
for  some  hours.  The  vessel  struck  on  shoals,  and  in 
getting  off  sprung  a  leak.  The  danger  was  so  great 
that  the  captain  let  the  passengers  know  that  he  had 
but  little  hope,  and  the  boats  were  ordered  out  to  save 
passengers  and  crew  if  possible  ;  but  a  merciful  Provi- 
dence overruled  it,  and  caused  the  storm  to  abate, 
and  the  vessel  arrived  at  her  destined  port  in  safety. 
Mr.  Andrew  wrote  me  frow  New  York  ;  he  was  sick 
most  of  the  passage,  but  was  then  better.    They  had 


192 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


a  company  of  thirty  or  more  passengers,  among  whom 
were  eight  Methodist  and  two  Episcopal  ministers, 
one  Jewish  priest,  two  Quakers,  Presbyterians,  etc., 
quite  an  assortment.  Mr.  Andrew  wrote  Brother 
Hoskins  a  day  or  two  after  he  wrote  me  ;  he  was  well. 
But,  my  dear  parents,  your  Amelia  writes  with  a 
heavy  heart.  The  Lord  has  visited  me  with  his  chas- 
tening rod,  and,  though  I  desire  to  bow  in  submis- 
sion to  his  will,  yet  nature  shrinks.  On  Friday,  the 
9th,  the  babe  left  this  for  a  world  of  bliss.  O,  'twas 
hard  to  resign  her.  She  was  a  lovely  child  ;  she 
could  walk,  and  began  to  talk,  and  was  very  interest- 
ing. I  had  gone,  by  the  doctor's  direction,  across 
the  river  for  the  benefit  of  the  salt  air,  but,  finding 
that  she  grew  worse,  after  staying  a  few  days  I  re- 
turned. The  doctor  sent  me  the  same  day  a  little 
out  of  town,  in  another  direction,  to  the  house  of  a 
friend,  where  he  could  see  her  twice  a  day.  I  went 
there  this  day  week ;  the  dear  babe  mended  and  by 
Wednesday  I  had  great  hopes  of  her.  That  night  the 
weather  changed,  and  by  morning  she  was  evidently 
worse.  I  brought  her  home,  where  she  lingered  un- 
til the  next  afternoon,  and  then,  after  being  in  agony 
all  day,  she  sweetly  fell  asleep,  and  so  gently  did  her 
spirit  take  its  flight,  that  it  was  not  easy  to  tell  the 
precise  moment  when  she  ceased  breathing.  As  long 
as  she  could  speak,  every  breath  was  *  Ma,  ma,'  and 
she  always  said  it  sweeter  than  any  child  I  ever  heard 
speak.  Oh,  how  I  feel  at  the  idea  of  dear  Mr.  An- 
drew's sorrow.  He  doted  on  the  lovely  child,  for 
she  was  a  most  engaging,  promising  babe.  I  think 
she  had  the  best  countenance  I  ever  saw,  not  unlike 
Sarah,  though  she  was  always  said  to  be  the  very  pic- 


y antes  Osgood  Andrew. 


193 


ture  of  her  father.  We  used  often  to  speak  of  the 
time  when  we  should  have  the  pleasure  of  taking  her 
to  see  you  all.  I  knew  you  would  love  her,  but  it  is 
all  over  now,  and  she  sleeps  quietly  in  the  cold  earth. 
Oh,  my  dear  parents,  pray  for  your  afflicted  daughter. 
The  fatigue  I  have  undergone  nursing  my  lovely  child 
has  prevented  me  from  gaining  much  strength,  though 
I  keep  up.  The  rest  of  the  family  are  well.  The 
dear  children  express  their  love  for  you  all.  I  have 
experienced  much  satisfaction  in  the  attention  of  Eliza- 
beth ;  she  seems  anxious  to  administer  all  the  conso- 
lation in  her  power  to  my  bleeding  heart.  I  hope, 
my  dear  parefits,  you  will  excuse  the  prolixity  of  this 
scrawl.  I  thought  the  particulars  would  be  gratifying 
to  you,  and,  indeed,  it  is  a  partial  relief  to  my  own 
heart,  for  it  seems,  sometimes,  as  if  it  would  burst. 
Remember  me  affectionately  to  every  member  of  the 
family  and  all  friends. 

"  I  remain,  your  affectionate  daughter, 

•*  Ann  a.  Andrew." 

He  heard  no  word  of  the  bereavement  ;  the  letter 
conveying  the  tidings  did  not  reach  Pittsburgh.  He 
had  heard  of  her  sickness  and  hurried  away  from 
Pittsburgh.  By  the  long  stage  route  from  western 
Pennsylvania  he  made  all  the  haste  he  could  home- 
ward, to  find  that  the  child  was  gone. 

The  following  letter  he  wrote  to  his  father  on  his 
child's  death  : 

Charleston,  June  16,  1828. 

My  Dear  Father  : 

"  Your  letter  to  Amelia  was  received  a  few  days 
since,  the  contents  of  which  gave  us  some  anxiety. 
9 


194 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


We  regret  to  hear  of  the  indisposition  of  the  girls,  but 
hope  they  have  recovered  before  this  time.  You  com- 
plain of  not  having  heard  from  us  recently.  This  ex- 
cites some  surprise,  as  I  think  I  wrote  you  from  Pitts- 
burgh, and  Amelia  informs  me  that  she  wrote  you 
more  than  a  month  since,  giving  you  the  melancholy 
intelligence  of  the  death  of  our  precious  babe,  our 
sweetest  little  Ann  Amelia,  who  departed  this  life  on 
May  9th,  after  a  painful  illness  of  several  weeks. 
I  reached  Pittsburgh  on  the  morning  of  May  5th, 
about  9  o'clock,  and  on  the  8th  or  9th  received  a  let- 
ter from  Amelia,  informing  me  that  the  child  was  very 
ill ;  in  about  ten  days  I  received  another,  announc- 
ing her  continued  illness.  I  became  so  uneasy  and 
anxious  on  the  subject  that  on  the  morning  of  the  21st 
I  left  Pittsburgh,  four  days  before  the  adjournment  of 
the  Conference.  After  a  most  fatiguing  route  in  the 
stage,  I  reached  home  on  the  31st,  and  judge,  my  dear 
parents,  what  my  feelings  were  when  I  found  that 
my  dear  babe  had  been  dead  and  buried  nearly  three 
weeks,  yet  I  had  not  heard  of  her  death  till  I  reached 
the  city.  Amelia  had  written,  but  I  had  not  received 
the  letter.  It  was  a  most  painful  stroke,  for  she  was 
a  sweetly  interesting  child  ;  but  I  have  endeavored  to 
submit  without  a  murmur,  and  I  believe  God  has  en- 
abled me  to  do  so.  Often  when  I  sit  around  my  table 
and  see  the  little  chair  vacant  in  which  she  used  to  sit, 
I  cannot  repress  the  sigh  or  starting  tear,  or  when  I 
look  ^t  the  grave  in  which  her  precious  remains  are 
deposited  ;  but  then  I  remember  she  is  safe — forever 
safe.  God  has  taken  her  to  himself,  and  long  ere  this 
she  has  recognized  a  kindred  spirit  near  the  throne. 
Happy  thought,  that  I  have  two  dear  children  in 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


195 


heaven  !  Oh,  my  God,  bring  me  and  all  mine  safely 
to  that  blessed  place  !  Amelia  bears  it  with  her  ac- 
customed fortitude.  Her  own  health  is  not  good.  I 
think  she  is  thinner  than  I  ever  saw  her.  I  wish  very 
much  that  she  were  with  you  during  the  summer,  but 
she  utterly  refuses  to  leave  me.  My  own  health  is 
pretty  good,  and  the  children  are  in  fine  health,  and 
are  improving  very  well  at  school.  The  affairs  of  the 
church  here  are  moderately  prosperous.  Some  of  last 
year's  ingathering  are  gone  back,  but  more  of  them 
continue  steadfast.  In  some  of  the  adjoining  coun- 
ties the  prospects  are  encouraging.  Perhaps  I  ought 
to  say  a  word  about  my  trip  to  Pittsburgh.  I 
wrote  you  that  I  was  to  sail  in  the  Saluda.  We  left 
Charleston  on  April  15th,  and  after  an  unusually 
tempestuous  voyage  of  eight  days  we  reached  New 
York.  After  staying  a  few  hours  in  this  great  em- 
porium, we  took  passage  on  the  steamboat  Victory 
for  Albany.  From  Albany  we  took  stage  for  Schen- 
ectady, and  thence  took  passage  in  a  canal  boat  for 
Utica.  From  Utica  we  took  passage  for  Rochester, 
and  thence  by  stage  we  went  to  Lewiston,  just  on  the 
frontier  of  the  United  States.  Just  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Niagara  is  Queenstown,  in  Upper  Canada.  The 
next  morning  we  went  seven  miles  to  visit  the  far- 
famed  Falls  of  Niagara.  After  spending  a  couple  of 
hours  in  viewing  this  most  stupendous  work  of  God, 
we  took  stage  for  Buffalo,  on  Lake  Erie  ;  from  there 
we  took  steamboat  up  Lake  Erie  to  Dunkirk,  and 
thence  by  stage  to  Erie,  and  on  to  Pittsburgh.  I  saw 
a  great  many  interesting  scenes,  but  my  flight  was  too 
rapid  to  examine  any  subject  minutely.  The  Hudson 
River,  Hudson  and  Erie  Canal,  the  mighty  cataract  of 


196 


The  Life  ajtd  Letters  of 


Niagara,  the  Lakes  Ontario  and  Erie,  and  the  mighty 
range  of  lofty  summits  which  form  the  Alleghany 
Mountains — these  were  all  subjects  of  deep  and  de- 
lightful interest.  Perhaps  I  may  be  permitted  some 
day  to  see  you,  and  then  we  can  talk  it  all  over. 
Amelia  joins  me  in  love  to  all. 

I  remain  yours  affectionately, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

The  man  never  murmured.  He  had  given  himself 
entirely  to  God  ;  in  God's  hand  he  rested.  It  was 
enough  that  God  took  the  child.  His  life  had  never 
been  free  from  care,  and  in  these  last  years  sorrow 
had  come  thick  and  fast,  but  God  was  good,  and  did 
all  things  well.  Nor  did  his  wife  complain,  the  noble, 
lovely  woman  that  she  was.  Many  a  woman  has  been 
canonized  who  was  no  such  saint  as  she. 

The  fearful  pestilence  of  the  year  before  visited 
Charleston  again,  and  one  of  the  preachers  fell  a  victim 
to  it — Asbury  Morgan.  He  had  been  one  of  the  most 
faithful  and  most  successful  laborers,  and  the  tribute 
paid  to  him  by  the  gentle  wife  was  richly  deserved. 
We  have  her  letter  : 

"  Charleston,  October  25.  1828. 
I  trust,  my  beloved  mother,  that  this  will  find  you 
all  in  the  enjoyment  of  health  and  happiness.  Father's 
last  was  received  with  much  pleasure.  We  rejoice  in 
that  measure  of  health  which,  as  a  family,  you  have 
enjoyed  this  year.  As  to  ourselves,  we  have  abun- 
dant cause  for  gratitude  to  God  ;  our  mercies  have 
been  many,  and,  although  we  have  not  been  alto- 
gether free  from  tlie  chastening  rod  of  affliction,  yet 
we  know  the  hand  that  sent  it  knows  just  how  much 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


197 


to  inflict.  And  here,  my  dear  mother,  I  must  pause 
to  drop  a  tear  to  the  memory  of  that  lovely  little  one 
which,  less  than  six  months  ago,  I  fondly  called  mine. 
She  was  indeed  lovely,  and  beloved  by  all  that  had 
any  knowledge  of  her.  Too  precious  for  this  world 
of  sin  and  sorrow,  she  has  been  transplanted  into  a 
kinder  soil.  I  try  to  submit,  but  sometimes  I  find  it 
hard  to  say,  *  Thy  will  be  done.'  As  a  Church,  we 
have  been  scourged  by  the  Almighty  ;  he  has  taken 
from  us  one  whose  life  was  a  comment  on  the  doc-' 
trines  he  preached.  We  may  come  as  near  applying 
this  character  to  Brother  Morgan  as  to  any  one  I 
know :  that;  as  his  Divine  Master,  he  was  '  holy, 
harmless,  undefiled,  separate  from  sinners.'  He  died 
from  the  *  stranger's,'  or  yellow  fever.  That  awful 
disease  did  not  prevail  to  any  great  extent  this  sea- 
son, but  it  was  almost  universally  fatal — from  what 
cause  we  are  unable  to  determine,  but  physicians 
suppose  it  was  in  consequence  of  the  remains  of  the 
dengue  fever  in  the  system,  for  I  do  not  suppose  that 
more  than  one  hundred  of  our  entire  population  es- 
caped that.  To  many  infirm  and  aged  persons  it 
proved  fatal,  but,  in  general,  it  was  not  considered 
dangerous,  though  it  has  left  in  almost  all  who  were 
in  any  degree  debilitated  or  infirm,  rheumatic  affec- 
tions of  the  joints  and  limbs.  Our  dear  Brother  Mor- 
gan appeared  to  enjoy  better  health  this  year  than  he 
had  done  for  many  years  past,  and  was  more  deeply 
engaged  in  the  work  of  God  than  I  ever  saw  him  be- 
fore. The  last  Sabbath  he  preached  was  a  day  of 
great  labor,  in  consequence  of  its  being  Sacramental 
Sabbath  for  the  blacks  ;  he  seemed  that  day  unusually 
drawn  out,  and  his  sermon  was  so  much  like  his  farewell 


198 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


charge,  that  it  was  remarked  by  several  that  he  preached 
as  if  he  were  going  away.  The  next  day  he  was  taken 
sick,  and  after  eleven  days  of  extreme  suffering  he  left 
this  for  a  better  world.  Mr.  Andrew  scarcely  ever 
left  him,  and  though  he  could  not  often  speak  of  his 
feehngs,  yet,  during  his  sickness,  he  expressed  him- 
self satisfactorily  to  Mr.  Andrew.  For  the  last  two 
or  three  days  he  did  not  appear  sensible,  except  at 
very  short  intervals,  and  could  not  speak  much,  but 
we  needed  no  dying  words  to  convince  us  of  his  fit- 
ness for  heaven  ;  his  life  supplied  us  with  every  assur- 
ance necessary.  He  has  left  a  heart-broken  widow 
and  three  small  children,  the  youngest  just  three 
weeks  old  when  he  died.  In  consequence  of  the  death 
of  Brother  Morgan,  the  labors  of  the  two  remaining 
preachers  have  necessarily  increased,  but  they  are  as- 
sisted by  an  Almighty  hand. 

"Brother  Capers  has  not  yet  returned  from  Eng- 
land. We  begin  now  to  look  for  him.  I  feel  as  if  the 
year  was  almost  gone,  and  a  move  we  must  make, 
where  to  we  know  not.  I  desire  to  have  no  choice, 
but  just  to  go  where  my  dear  husband  may  be  most 
useful,  though  at  times  I  feel  some  degree  of  uneasi- 
ness about  it.  Mr.  Andrew  is  at  this  time  from  home 
attending  the  District  Conference.  He  will  return  in 
a  few  days." 

His  second  year  in  Charleston  as  a  pastor  ended 
and  he  repa^ired  to  Conference  to  receive  his  new  ap- 
pointment. It  was  to  Greensboro  and  Athens,  in 
Georgia. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


199 


CHAPTER  V. 


GEORGIA  AGAIN. 


1829-1832. 


Greensborough.  — Athens.  —  Hope  Hull. — The  Protestant  Methodist 
Church.. — Mr.  Andrew's  Views  on  Freedom  of  Thought  and  Discus- 
sion.—1829. — Athens.— Madison —John  Andrew's  Death. — Sketch  of 
his  CharacteT. -Augusta  Again. — Visit  to  the  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence.— Missionary  Address. — Bishop  Wightman's  Account— George 
F.  Pierce. — Resolves  to  go  on  a  Mission.— General  Conference  in 
Philadelphia. — Elected  a  Bishop. 


INCE  he  traveled  the  Warren  Circuit  before  he 


^  was  an  Elder,  with  the  exception  of  the  time  he 
was  on  the  Charleston  District,  he  had  been  confined 
to  station  work,  and  in  the  largest  cities  of  his  Confer- 
ence. He  was  now  tow  find  a  new  and  to  him  much 
more  pleasant  field.  He  was  sent  to  two  flourishing 
country  towns  in  Middle  Georgia — Greensborough  and 
Athens.  Middle  Georgia,  as  the  central  part  of  the 
State  is  called,  had  even  then  been  a  long  time  the 
stronghold  of  Methodism,  which  had  been  settled 
there  from  1789.  In  Greene  County,  then  one  of  the 
wealthiest  and  most  populous  of  the  counties,  as  early 
as  1808  Francis  Asbury,  with  Dr.  Coke,  had  held  a 
Conference.  Greensborough,  the  county  site  to  which 
he  was  now  sent,  had  been  visited  in  1827  with  a 
glorious  and  sweeping  revival.  In  the  town  resided 
the  families  of  Dr.  Pierce  and  John  Howard,  and 


200 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


there  also  were  a  number  of  wealthy  and  pious  laymen. 
The  congregation  was  composed  of  the  most  intelli- 
gent and  influential  people  in  the  State.  Judge  Long- 
street,  Colonel  Foster,  the  Dawsons,  the  Cunning- 
hams— historic  names  in  Georgia — had  their  homes 
here.    The  Bishop  says  in  his  reminiscences  : 

"The  time  having  arrived  for  us  to  leave  Charles- 
ton, I  sent  my  wife  and  two  youngest  children  by 
steamer  to  Augusta,  while  I  went  in  a  private  car- 
riage with  my  eldest  daughter.  On  reaching  Augusta 
I  found  that  my  kind  Greensborough  friends,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Stewart,  had  sent  their  carriage  to  convey  my 
family  to  our  new  home.  In  due  time  and  in  safety 
we  reached  Greensborough,  and  received  a  cordial  and 
heart-cheering  welcome  from  the  friends  above  named, 
as  well  as  from  the  Church  and  citizens  generally. 
After  some  little  delay  a  suitable  house  was  procured, 
and  the  good  people  started  us  in  housekeeping. 
The  arrangement  was  that  I  should  locate  my  family 
in  Greensborough,  and  should  preach  on  alternate 
Sabbaths  in  that  place  and  tj;ie  town  of  Athens,  the 
distance  between  them  being  about  thirty-five  miles. 
Upon  the  whole,  this  arrangement  was  pleasant,  as  it 
imposed  on  me  the  necessity  of  taking  every  week  an 
amount  of  exercise  which  was  conducive  to  my  health  ; 
and  as  an  additional  matter  of  gratification,  my  ven- 
erable father  and  mother  lived  near  the  road  between 
the  two  places,  so  that  I  was  able  to  visit  them  almost 
every  week.  During  all  my  itinerant  career  I  had 
paid  them  only  occasional  visits,  and  these  had,  of 
necessity,  been  very  brief ;  and  in  looking  back  upon 
the  events  of  the  two  years  in  which  I  was  accustomed 
to  travel  that  road  in  attending  my  appointments, 


James  Osgood  Afidrew. 


201 


nothing  has  afforded  me  more  sincere  and  abiding 
pleasure  than  the  fact  that  I  was  able  to  minister  so 
greatly  to  the  happiness  of  my  loved  parents,  espe- 
cially of  my  father,  who  was  so  soon  to  leave  this  land 
of  sin  and  sorrow." 

Athens,  the  other  village,  was  thirty-five  miles  away. 
It  was  the  seat  of  the  university,  and  a  place  of  even 
then  considerable  commercial  importance,  having  a  pro- 
ductive country  all  around  it.  Near  it  Hope  Hull  had 
lived,  and  in  it  his  sons  Asbury  and  Henry  were  liv- 
ing at  this  time.  Thomas  Stanley,  the  Bishop's  old 
colleague,  had  here  a  high  school  for  girls,  and  his 
father's  old  friend,  General  Merriwether,  lived  some 
miles  away,  but  worshiped  in  the  village.  The  so- 
ciety was  not  a  large  one,  but  quite  strong  financially, 
and  unusually  intelligent.  The  change  from  the  sea- 
board to  his  native  hills  was  a  delightful  one  to  him  ; 
he  needed  it  and  enjoyed  it.  He  says  in  his  remi- 
niscences of  one  whom  we  have  often  mentioned  : 

"  Near  Athens  lived  and  died,  some  few  years  pre- 
vious to  the  time  of  which  I  write,  the  Rev.  Hope 
Hull,  one  of  the  pioneers  of  Methodism  in  Georgia, 
and  the  house  in  which  the  Methodists  of  the  neigh- 
borhood used  to  meet  for  the  worship  of  God  was  not 
far  from  town.  This  humble  tabernacle  had  passed 
away,  and  a  commodious  wooden  chapel,  occupying  a 
pleasant  and  convenient  position  in  the  town,  had 
been  erected  in  its  stead.  A  year  or  two  since  this 
building  was  succeeded  by  the  present  handsome  brick 
edifice. 

"  Of  the  earlier  band  of  disciples  who  watched  the 
incipient  struggles  of  Methodism  in  this  neighborhood, 
and  who  gave  themselves  to  God  under  its  banner,  a 


202 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


very  few  yet  remain  on  earth,  and  of  these  some  are 
removed  to  distant  portions  of  the  country.  First 
among  them  stands  the  remarkable  man  whose  name 
has  already  been  mentioned.  Of  the  birthplace  and 
early  history  of  the  Rev.  Hope  Hull  I  have  no  definite 
information.  Of  his  appearance,  however,  his  man- 
ners, and  especially  his  voice,  I  have  a  very  vivid 
recollection,  having  frequently  in  my  younger  days 
seen  him  in  my  father's  family  and  at  camp-meetings. 
He  was  a  stout,  portly  man,  of  commanding  appear- 
ance, with  a  countenance  rather  stern,  about  which 
there  played,  nevertheless,  a  good  deal  of  sly  humor. 
His  voice  was  one  of  unusual  compass  and  power,  and 
of  all  the  preachers  to  whom  1  have  ever  listened  (and 
they  have  been  many),  he  had  the  most  absolute  con- 
trol over  his  hearers  by  the  modulations  of  his  voice. 
I  remember  to  have  heard  him  preach  twice  at  Tabor's 
old  camp- ground,  in  Elbert  County,  when  I  was  a  boy, 
and  although  so  many  years  have  intervened,  his 
texts,  and  a  good  deal  of  both  sermons,  together  with 
his  appearance,  are  still  fresh  in  my  memory.  One 
of  the  texts  was  in  Habakkuk,  '  O  Lord,  I  have  heard 
thy  speech  and  was  afraid  ;  O  Lord,  revive  thy  work.' 
The  discourse  was  characteristic,  and  the  prayer  of 
the  text  was  answered  even  while  he  was  yet  preach- 
ing. The  other  was  a  Monday  morning  sermon,  a 
sort  of  farewell  to  the  camp-meeting.  The  text  was 
appropriate,  *  Gather  up  the  fragments  which  remain, 
that  nothing  be  lost  ;  '  and  the  discourse  was  in  ad- 
mirable keeping  with  it.  It  was  a  memorable  season, 
and  not  a  few  of  God's  people  made  a  refreshing  meal 
upon  the  delicious  fragments  which  were  served  up 
to  them  by  this  faithful  steward  of  their  Master.  Of 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


203 


the  character  of  his  preaching  generally  I  shall  at- 
tempt no  description,  as  I  was  too  young  to  judge. 
Of  one  thing,  however,  there  can  be  no  doubt  :  he 
was  a  mighty  man  of.  God,  eminently  fitted  for  the 
work  which  his  God  assigned  him.  Of  this  the  almost 
unparalleled  success  which  everywhere  attended  his 
ministry  affords  the  most  conclusive  proof. 

"  The  Methodist  preachers  of  the  early  time  had 
small  libraries,  and  but  little  time  to  devote  to  the 
few  books  within  their  reach.  There  was,  however, 
one  book  which  they  studied  closely,  and  they  used  its 
truths  to  good  effect.  We  think  it  very  questionable 
whether  the  teachers  of  the  present  age,  with  all  the 
light  of  science  and  philosophy,  and  all  the  aid  of 
critical  exegesis,  are  more  profoundly  acquainted  with 
the  doctrinal,  experimental,  and  practical  teachings  of 
the  Holy  Scripture,  than  were  those  early  apostles  of 
Methodism,  whose  whole  wardrobe  and  library  were 
carried  in  a  pair  of  saddlebags  ;  who  preached  every 
day  and  frequently  at  night ;  held  class-meetings  al- 
ways ;  read  their  Bibles,  and  that  often  on  their  knees; 
aimed  right  at  the  conscience  and  heart  in  their  ser- 
mons, and  seldom  missed  their  mark.  Many  of  these 
men  were,  indeed,  men  of  giant  might. 

Of  Mr.  Hull  I  may  only  say,  further,  that  in  my 
childhood  I  was  taught  to  reverence  him.  He  was 
an  early  and  intimate  friend  of  my  father  and  mother, 
and  was  frequently  at  their  house.  On  one  of  these 
occasions,  when  I  was  an  infant,  he  took  me  up  in  his 
arms  and  prayed  God  to  bless  me,  and  make  me  a 
useful  preacher  of  the  gospel.  Had  that  prayer  any 
influence  on  my  subsequent  life  ?  But  the  career  of 
this  great  and  good  man  drew  to  a  close.    The  mes- 


204 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


senger  came  for  him  and  found- him  ready.  He  had 
received  marching  orders,  and  ]oy{\i\\y  obeyed  the 
command  of  the  glorious  Captain^of  his  salvation,  to 
go  over  Jordan  and  possess  the  land  of  his  inheritance. 
His  godly  wife,  who  was  among  the  earliest  fruits  of 
Methodism  in  Georgia,  survived  her  husband  a  few 
years,  and  then  she,  too,  peacefully  exchanged  earth 
for  heaven." 

It  was  during  this  period  and  reaching  to  1832  that 
he  did  his  great  evangelistic  work  in  upper  Georgia. 
He  does  not  say  much  about  it,  for  he  was  never 
given  to  glorifying  himself.  The  times  were  full  of 
great  religious  earnestness,  camp-meetings  were  fruit- 
fully frequent,  and  he  was  in  his  prime  as  a  preacher. 
It  was  just  at  this  time,  too,  that  the  Methodist  Protes- 
tant Church  was  formed.  Some  of  Mr.  Andrew's  old 
and  warm  friends  led  in  the  secession  movement  in 
Georgia.  They  were  men  of  great  force,  and  influence, 
and  piety.  This  excitement  ran  very  high  and  the 
feelings  of  those  arrayed  against  each  other  were  very 
intense.  To  him  all  strife  was  painful,  and  especially 
strife  like  this.  The  wisdom  of  his  views,  as  given  in 
the  reminiscences,  has  been  vindicated  by  after  results. 
He  says  : 

"  In  this  state  of  things  it  became  a  grave  question 
as  to  what  was  the  better  course  for  preachers  in  charge 
of  the  principal  circuits  involved  in  the  movement ;  and 
as  I  had  by  this  time  got  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
fathers,  my  advice  was  asked,  which  I  gave  to  the  fol- 
lowing purport :  Avoid  as  far  as  possible  all  contro- 
versy with  them,  lest  you  catch  their  spirit ;  treat 
them  always  with  Christian  courtesy.  If  they  utter 
bitter  things  against  you  or  the  Church,  listen  pa- 


James  Osgood  Aiidrezv. 


205 


tiently  ;  and  if  any  member  of  your  charge  desires  to 
join  them  and  asks  you  for  a  certificate  of  his  fair 
standing,  without  hesitation  give  it,  if  his  previous 
standing  will  justify  it.  Let  the  reformers  have  all  the 
quarreling  to  themselves  ;  let  them  preach  the  gospel 
of  wrath  and  bitterness.  Do  you  steadily  preach  the 
gospel  of  the  grace  of  God,  and  the  people  will  soon 
return  to  your  churches  and  say  the  old  wine  is  best. 

•*  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  this  advice  was 
generally  followed  by  the  preachers,  and  the  result 
was  that  the  radical  movement  met  with  very  limited 
success  ;  whereas,  if  the  contrary  course  had  been 
taken,  very  different  results  would  have  followed.  A 
little  persecution  would  have  been  a  perfect  godsend 
to  them,  as  it  would  have  afforded  them  a  passport  to 
the  sympathies  of  hundreds  of  that  class  who  never 
take  pains  to  examine  the  arguments,  pro  or  con^  on 
any  subject,  but  who  instinctively  attach  themselves 
to  those  who  can  make  out  a  seemingly  fair  case.  I 
have  no  doubt,  if  a  similar  course  had  been  pursued 
everywhere  in  those  exciting  times,  thousands  would 
have  been  saved  to  the  Church,  many  of  them  valuable 
men  and  women,  who,  under  a  contrary  course  of 
treatment,  were  driven  from  us  in  an  unfortunate 
hour,  and,  with  their  families,  forever  lost  to  our  in- 
fluence. 

And  now  you  will  permit  me  to  say,  heterodox 
as  the  sentiment  may  seem,  I  very  much  question  the 
wisdom  of  that  rule  in  our  discipline  which  makes  the 
inveighing  against  either  our  doctrine  or  discipline  a 
crime  punishable  with  expulsion  from  the  Church. 
Good  as  I  sincerely  believe  the  Methodist  discipline 
and  polity  to  be,  and  much  as  I  approve  and  love  it, 


2o6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


it  is  yet  a  human  production  and,  doubtless,  has  the 
stamp  of  imperfection  on  it,  and  the  legislation  of 
successive  General  Conferences  Jias  proven  that  the 
book  was  regarded  as  defective  and  as  requiring'amend- 
ment  in  many  things.  And  if  the  highest  assembly 
of  the  Church  takes  the  liberty  of  amending  it,  can  it 
be  sinful  in  a  member  to  express  occasionally  doubts 
as  to  its  absolute  excellency  ?  To  be  sure,  no  good 
Methodist  would  seek  to  sow  discord  in  the  Church 
by  inveighing  against  the  discipline,  and  if  the  ad- 
ministrators of  the  law  were  always  prudent  and  wise, 
the  law  might  be  useful ;  but  the  times  which  seem  to 
call  for  the  administration  of  such  a  law  are  precisely 
the  seasons  when  deliberate  prudence  on  either  side 
is  not  to  be  expected  ;  when  men's  minds  are  excited 
to  a  very  high  pitch,  and  when  the  original  cause 
of  difficulty  is  greatly  increased  by  reports  of  speeches 
and  opinions,  highly  colored  in  their  transmission 
through  the  medium  of  a  class  of  people  whose  great- 
est delight  is  to  magnify  evil  and  increase  strjfe  and 
trouble.  How  easy  would  it  be  in  such  a  state  to  find 
occasion  for  a  charge  of  violating  the  discipline  against 
a  man  who  had  become  at  all  exceptionable  to  the 
preacher  or  a  particular  section  of  the  society.  The 
decision  as  to  his  guilt  or  innocence  depends  upon  the 
definition  of  the  term  *  inveighing  against  the  discip- 
line.' Now,  suppose  the  preacher  to  be  an  inexperi- 
enced, bigoted,  and  reckless  devotee  to  whatever 
goes  under  the  name  of  *  old  Methodism,'  with  a  com- 
mittee to  match — and  such  a  thing  is  very  possible  and 
has  been  more  than  once — would  it  not  be  very  easy 
to  convict  him,  and  require  him  tt)  retract  or  leave  the 
Church  ?    It  is  in  vain  that  he  urges  that,  while  admit- 


Javtcs  Osgood  Andreiv.  20/ 

ting  that  he  has  at  times  spoken  of  some  of  the  usages 
of  the  Church  as  not  the  best,  yet  he  had  an  abiding 
love  for  the  Church,  and  desires  to  continue  in  her 
communion,  but  he  cannot  retract  the  opinions  he 
has  uttered  without  sinning  against  his  conscience  ; 
and  if  the  authoritative  decision  is  retraction  or  separa- 
tion from  the  Church,  he  must  unhesitatingly  embrace 
the  latter. 

"  My  observations  for  many  years  have  induced  the 
conviction  that  by  proceedings  similar  in  substance 
to  the  case  we  have  just  presented,  not  a  few  persons 
have  been  driven  from  us,  and  they  were  frequently 
of  that  class  who  had  been  valuable  pillars  in  the  house 
of  God.  They  were  men  of  intelligence,  original  and 
independent  thinkers,  who,  though  not  to  be  moved 
by  ecclesiastical  dictation,  yet  their  own  sober  reflec- 
tions, if  left  to  themselves  and  treated  with  respectful 
kindness,  would  be  very  apt  to  bring  them  about  right 
after  a  while.  And  now.  Doctor,  I  don't  know  how 
the  above  views  will  quadrate  with  editorial  judgment 
in  the  premises.  I  have,  however,  ventured  the 
opinions,  and  you  can  do  with  them  as  you  please, 
except  that  I  shall  not  answer  before  a  committee  to 
the  charge  of  '  inveighing  against  the  discipline.'  " 

He  did  as  he  advised  others  to  do  ;  he  did  not 
strive  ;  he  was  hard  at  work.  At  the  camp-meetings 
he  preached  with  great  power,  and  blessed  revival 
influences  went  with  his  work.  After  a  happy  year 
in  his  new  circuit  he  went  to  Conference,  and  was  ap- 
pointed to  Athens  and  Madison. 

At  this  Conference  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
was  divided,  and  the  Georgia  Conference  was  formed. 
He  fell,  of  course,  into  the  latter  body.    During  the 


208 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


summer  before  the  Conference  an  incident  occurred 
which  he  must  narrate. 

"  We  had  a  pleasant  and,  we  trust,  not  unprofitable 
year  at  Greensborough.  We  had  a  very  good  revival 
which  resulted  in  a  number  of  conversions  and  addi- 
tions to  the  Church;  and  altogether  we  had  a  peaceful 
and  pleasant  year.  There  was  a  young  man  in  the 
village,  the  son  of  godly  parents,  who  had  just  gradu- 
ated and  returned  home.  During  his  college  course 
he  had  been  wonderfully  converted  to  God,  and  every 
one  supposed  he  would  preach.  Probably  he  gave 
some  intimation  that  he  felt  called  to  that  work,  but 
collegiate  life  is  not  precisely  the  most  favorable  for 
the  cultivation  of  Christian  spirituality.  Our  young 
friend  grew  cold,  lost  his  religious  feeling,  and  by  the 
time  he  left  college  had  almost  abandoned  all  expec- 
tation of  preaching  the  gospel,  and  entered  a  lawyer's 
office  as  student.  I  felt  deeply  impressed  that  he  was 
occupying  dangerous  ground,  and  determined  to  seek 
a  plain,  Christian  talk  with  him,  hoping  that  it  might 
do  him  some  good.  The  opportunity  I  sought  was 
soon  afforded  me,  and  I  endeavored  to  improve  it 
honestly  and  kindly.  I  found  the  matter  just  as  I  had 
feared  ;  he  had  in  the  earlier  days  of  his  Christian  ex- 
perience felt  it  his  duty  to  preach,  but  with  the  loss 
of  his  religious  enjoyments,  his  convictions  of  minis- 
terial duty  had  become  very  feeble,  and  in  accordance 
with  the  wishes  of  some  of  his  friends,  he  had  resolved 
to  study  law.  My  young  friend  was  exceedingly 
frank  in  his  communication  with  me,  and  received  all 
I  said  very  kindly.  Our  conversation  was  close  and 
honest,  but  very  friendly,  and  I  left  him  without  know- 
ing what  might  be  the  result.    In  a  week  or  two,  how- 


Ja7nes  Osgood  Andrezv. 


209 


ever,  he  told  me  that  God  sanctified  that  interview  to 
his  good,  and  that  it  had  awakened  him  to  a  sense  of 
his  real  condition  and  duty,  and  that  from  that  day 
as  long  as  he  lived  he  should  devote  himself  to  the 
service  of  God  in  the  itinerant  ministry.  Many  years 
are  gone  since  that  day,  but  he  has  kept  his  vow,  and 
few  have  labored  with  more  ability  and  success  than 
he  has  done.  This  conversation  was  probably  the  de- 
ciding incident  in  his  experience.  And  may  it  not  be 
that  many  valuable  young  men  whom  God  has  called 
to  the  ministry,  and  who,  like  the  one  above  named, 
lose  the  power  of  religion  during  that  trying  time 
of  a  young  man's  life — his  collegiate  course — and 
who  might  be  saved  to  the  Church  and  the  ministry 
by  timely  and  faithful  kindness  on  the  part  of  their 
pastors  and  friends,  who,  in  default  of  this,  go  into  the 
secular  business  of  the  world,  and  very  frequently  are 
lost,  not  only  to  the  pulpit,  but  to  the  Church  ?  " 

The  young  law  student  was,  the  year  after  this 
reminiscence  was  sent  to  the  press  (1853),  made  a 
Bishop.  While  the  warm-hearted  and  sagacious  An- 
drew was  sure  George  Pierce  ought  to  preach,  the 
preacher  in  charge  of  the  Apalachee  Circuit,  John  Col- 
linsworth,  was  just  as  sure  he  ought  not.  George  was 
too  airy,  as  he  expressed  it.  His  blue  broadcloth 
suit  was  too  stylish,  and  he  wore  his  hair  in  an  un- 
Methodistic  way.  It  was,  indeed,  a  blessing  to  the 
Church  that  James  O.  Andrew  had  the  heart  of  the 
young  man,  and  that  he  was  himself  of  stern  stuff, 
as  otherwise  the  indiscreet  severity  of  the  preacher  in 
charge  might  have  driven  him  from  the  field.  The 
story  which  Andrew  could  tell  of  the  trials  of  the 
years  before,  when  the  call  came  to  him  in  the  cabin 


2IO  TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 

f 

in  Elbert,  and  when  he,  the  main  support  of  the  fam- 
ily he  loved  so  well,  went  forth,  and  the  story  of  how 
God  had  been  faithful  to  his  promise  and  had  kept 
them  from  want,  was  enough,  for  it  was  with  no  self- 
ish aim  that  the  young  man  was  seeking,  in  secular 
life,  a  pecuniary  return  he  could  not  hope  for  in  the 
ministry. 

Seventeen  years  before,  Lovick  Pierce  had  licensed 
to  preach  in  the  flat  woods  of  Elbert  James  O.  An- 
drew, a  plain-looking,  timid,  half-educated  boy.  Now 
that  boy  was  a  man  among  men,  and  was  the  pastor  of 
his  family.  He  had  won  the  love  and  confidence  of 
his  gifted  and  pious  son,  and  had  led  him  to  take  that 
step  his  father  had  most  earnestly  desired  he  should 
take.  At  this  time  began  those  tender  relations  be- 
tween James  O.  Andrew  and  George  F.  Pierce  which 
were  never  interrupted.  Young  Pierce  was  the  Tim- 
othy to  this  Paul.  He  was  his  colleague,  his  asso- 
ciate, and  his  counsellor.  During  life  Andrew  leaned 
upon  him  as  upon  his  second  self.  The  love  between 
them  never  knew  a  lessening. 

Bishop  Pierce  says  :  "  My  personal  acquaintance 
with  him  began  while  I  was  yet  in  my  teens,  and  he  was 
in  the  flush  of  his  prime  and  vigor.  He  was  stationed  in 
Athens  and  Greensborough,  my  native  town,  in  1829. 
I  had  just  returned  from  school  to  my  father's  house, 
and  in  the  secrecy  of  my  own  soul  was  anxiously 
resolving,  as  a  question  of  duty,  my  call  to  the  minis- 
try. My  lips  were  sealed  to  every  human  being ;  I 
dwelt  alone  upon  this  subject,  and  had  commenced 
the  study  of  another  profession  to  rid  myself  of  the 
convictions  that  were  pressing  me  sorely,  but  this 
good  man  discerned  my  secret  trouble,  invited  me  to 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


21  r 


his  house,  took  me  into  an  upper  chamber  privately 
and  alone,  adroitly  drew  from  me  a  confession  of  my 
feelings,  and  then,  with  kind  counsel  and  tender  ex- 
hortation, encouraged  me  to  do  my  duty.  Perhaps, 
as  I  then  thought,  the  cast  of  all  my  life  was  deter- 
mined by  that  meeting.  At  any  rate,  from  that  hour, 
considering  the  disparity  of  our  years  and  of  circum- 
stances, our  future  intercourse  was  intimate,  and  af- 
fectionate, and  confiding." 

kWhen  the  old  man,  stricken  with  his  last  stroke,  was 
on  his  death-bed,  he  asked  that  George — for  he  was 
never  anything  else  to  him — should  preach  his  funeral 
sermon. 

The  Bishop  says:  "The  Annual  Conference  was 
held  that  winter  at  Columbia,  S.  C.  This  was  an 
important  session,  as  it  was  the  last  in  which  the 
Georgia  and  South  Carolina  preachers  met  together 
as  one  Conference.  The  General  Conference  had  au- 
thorized the  Bishop,  if  he  should  judge  it  proper,  to 
form  another  Annual  Conference,  in  the  interim,  of 
the  General  Conference.  Accordingly,  at  this  session 
resolutions  were  introduced  requesting  the  Presiding 
Bishop  to  institute  the  Georgia  Conference.  The 
proposition  gave  rise  to  an  animated  discussion,  but 
it  was  finally  carried  by  a  respectable  majority, 
and  the  Bishops,  acting  in  accordance  with  the  re- 
quest, announced  the  appointments  for  the  two 
Conferences.  It  was  not  strange  that  there  should 
have  been  a  good  deal  of  feeling  on  the  subject.  We 
had  been  so  long  accustomed  to  labor  together,  and 
to  meet  together  in  an  annual  session,  that  the  idea 
that  we  should  meet  no  more  in  that  capacity  was 
necessarily  painful.    But  then,  on  the  other  hand, 


212 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  little  one  had  become  a  thousand,  the  once  small 
band  had  spread  forth  numerous  branches,  and  our  field 
of  labor  had  been  so  greatly  enlarged  that  it  was  be- 
coming quite  inconvenient  to  meet  in  one  Conference. 
The  limits  of  the  State  of  Georgia  had  been  greatly 
extended  by  treaties  with  the  Indians.  Florida,  too, 
had  opened  a  large  additional  field  for  the  labors  of 
the  members  of  the  Conference,  who  had  early  occu- 
pied the  ground,  and  were  diligently  seeking  to  enter 
every  open  door  in  order  to  carry  the  gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God  to  the  settlers  in  these  new  lands. 

''One  serious  difficulty  in  the  way  of  a  continued 
union  in  the  Conference  was  found  in  the  great  dis- 
tance which  many  of  the  preachers  had  to  travel  to 
reach  the  seat  of  the  Annual  Conference.  Suppose 
the  Conference  was  held  in  Fayetteville  or  Wil- 
mington, or  even  in  Camden  :  what  a  journey  was  it 
for  the  preachers  from  Pea  River  or  Choctohatchie, 
or  from  the  regions  around  Tallahassee.  And  be  it 
remembered  we  had  then  no  railroads  to  help  us,  but 
the  preacher  had  to  make  his  way  generally  on  horse- 
back, frequently  at  considerable  expense,  and  that, 
too,  to  come  from  pockets  very  imperfectly  replen- 
ished. And  when  to  these  considerations  it  is  added 
that  the  preachers  on  these  outposts,  if  they  attended 
Conference  at  all,  were  compelled  to  lose  nearly  one- 
fourth  of  the  year  in  traveling  to  and  from  Confer- 
ence, it  is  only  surprising  that  the  separation  was  not 
earlier  effected. 

"The  division  has  worked  well.  Georgia  has  be- 
come quite  a  large  Conference,  and  the  Florida  Con- 
ference has  sprung  up  quite  a  vigorous  offshoot  from 
its  roots,  destined,  we  trust,  to  maintain  an  honorable 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


213 


and  successful  competition  with  the  parent  in  the  race 
of  well-doing,  while  noble  old  South  Carolina  has  lost 
nothing  of  heart,  or  hope,  or  usefulness,  and  although 
gradually  curtailed  of  her  territory  until  she  has  be- 
come a  compact,  snug  little  Conference,  yet  still  she 
stands  forth  in  the  van  of  our  glorious  battle,  and  is 
emphatically,  in  all  her  movements,  a  bright  and  stir- 
ring example  to  all  her  sisters  North  and  South. 

**At  this  Conference  I  was  appointed  to  Athens 
and  Madison.  I  was  sorry  to  part  with  my  kind 
Greensborough  friends,  who  were  endeared  to  my 
heart  by  very  many  acts  of  kindness,  but  I  had  long 
since  learned  that  it  was  better  to  obey  than  grumble, 
so  I  repaired  promptly  to  my  work  and  found  among 
my  flock  in  Madison  a  kindly  welcome.  Madison 
was  then  a  thrifty  little  village,  and  there  was  a  re- 
spectable society  worshiping  in  what  we  considered 
a  pretty  decent  wooden  church." 

His  father's  home  was  almost  in  the  direct  line  from 
Athens  to  Madison,  and  as  he  lived  in  Athens  and 
came  to  Madison  every  other  Sabbath,  he  was  able  to 
make  a  weekly  call  at  the  old  preacher's  humble  cabin. 
This  was  well,  for  the  old  soldier  was  near  his  end. 
He  was  now  seventy-two  years  of  age.  As  we  have 
seen,  he  was  a  man  of  very  poetic  nature,  somewhat 
moody,  perhaps  morbidly  conscientious.  He  was  one 
of  those  men,  not  rarely  found,  who  do  not  fit  exactly 
into  any  place — men  who  are  never  understood  by 
those  among  whom  they  live.  He  had  the  sad  faculty 
of  failing  in  nearly  everything  he  undertook  except  in 
living  an  upright  Christian  life.  He  had  raised  a 
large  family,  and  they  were  all  Christians.  He  was 
now  near  his  rest,  and  this  spring  God  gave  him  sleep. 


214 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Through  God's  good  providence,  the  son  was  enabled 
to  reach  the  dying  bed  of  his  dear  old  father,  and  he 
tells  of  it  in  his  reminiscences.  After  the  darkness 
of  the  night  the  day-gleam  had  burst  on  the  good  old 
man.  John  Andrew  at  last  had  found  a  world  in 
which  he  was  fitted  to  live. 

The  Bishop  says:  "For  several  months  past  his 
cough  rendered  him  unable  to  preach,  and  confined 
him  mostly  to  the  house.  On  my  return  from  our 
last  Conference  I  found  him  sinking  very  rapidly,  but 
his  soul  was  peaceful  and  happy.  He  told  me  that 
he  had  prayed  that  he  "might  be  permitted  to  see  me 
once  more,  that  his  petition  was  granted,  and  now  he 
was  willing  to  depart.  My  duties  called  me  away 
from  him  for  a  little  more  than  a  week,  and  when  I 
again  visited  him  he  was  in  the  same  happy  state  of 
mind,  waiting  patiently  for  the  change.  The  morning 
subsequent  to  my  arrival  he  was  taken  with  a  violent 
fit  of  coughing  which  we  thought  had  finished  the 
struggle,  but  after  some  time  he  revived,  although  he 
could  not  articulate  distinctly  for  nearly  half  an  hour. 
As  I  sat  by  him  I  discovered  that  he  wanted  to  speak. 
I  asked  him  if  he  wanted  anything  ;  he  replied, 
*  Nothing  but  Christ.  When  I  have  Jesus  in  my  soul 
all  is  well.'  During  the  greater  part  of  the  day  he  was 
employed  in  exhortation  and  in  shouting  the  praises 
of  God.  A  few  days  previous  to  his  death  he  asked 
me  to  give  him  the  Sacrament.  God  so  far  enabled 
me  to  control  my  feelings  as  to  comply  with  this  dying 
request,  and  we  had  a  memorable  family  Sacrament. 
My  mother  and  most  of  the  children  knelt  around,  and 
we  all  together  for  the  last  time  commemorated  the 
precious  love  of  God  to  oui  guilty  race.    It  was  a  mo- 


James  Osgood  Andrezv.  215 

ment  of  glorious  exultation  to  my  dying  father,  and 
so  the  good  old  man  passed  away.  He  was  buried 
near  where  he  had  lived,  and  twenty-five  years  after- 
ward the  gentle  Mary,  his  faithful  wife,  was  laid  beside 
him,  and  there  they  sleep. 

"  During  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1830  my  wife 
was  visited  with  a  long  and  sore  illness,  which  con- 
fined h^r  to  her  bed  for  several  weeks,  and  during 
which  were  developed  the  indications  of  the  fell  dis- 
ease which  several  years  later  carried  her  to  the  grave. 
It  was  a  melancholy  season  to  me,  the  more  so  as  I 
was  compelled  frequently  to  leave  her  to  attend  my 
appointments  at  Madison.  We  were  cheered,  how- 
ever, by  the  great  kindness  of  the  people  of  Athens, 
who  suffered  us  to  want  for  nothing,  and  by  their 
kindly  sympathies  greatly  endeared  themselves  to  us. 
I  shall  never  forget  especially  the  devotedness  of  Dr. 
Hull,  who  acted  the  part,  not  only  of  the  attentive 
and  skillful  physician,  but  also  that  of  a  kind  and  un- 
tiring and  considerate  friend.  The  doctor  still  lives,' 
but  his  kind  and  excellent  wife,  who  shared  with  him 
in  attentions  to  my  afflicted  household,  has  many 
years  since  exchanged  earth  for  heaven.  And  there 
was  my  good  friend  Asbury  Hull,  brother  of  the  doc- 
tor, and  both  of  them  sons  of  the  venerable  Hope 
Hull,  and  many  others  whose  names  I  cannot  now 
mention,  who  all  showed  us  much  kindness.  Many 
of  them  are  scattered  throughout  other  regions  of  the 
land.    Heaven  bless  them  wherever  they  are. 

"  And  now  the  hour  approached  which  was  to  termi- 
nate my  pastoral  relations  to  the  people  of  my  charge. 


He  died  last  year  (1881),  full  of  years,  and  honors,  and  blessedness. 


2l6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


The  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Macon,  but  such  was 
the  state  of  Mrs.  Andrew's  health,  that  I  feared  great- 
ly I  should  not  be  able  to  attend  it.  This  would  have 
been  a  painful  disappointment,  as  I  had  always  prized 
this  annual  meeting  with  fellow-laborers,  and  up  to 
that  time  had  never  been  absent  from  an  Annual  Con- 
ference from  the  time  of  my  first  connectioh  with  the 
itinerancy.  By  the  grace  of  God,  however,  I  was  not 
disappointed.  My  wife's  health  improved  so  that  she 
urged  me  to  go,  and  the  doctor  said  I  might  safely 
leave.  We  had,  to  be  sure,  rather  a  rough  time  for 
the  journey,  in  consequence  of  a  considerable  fall  of 
snow,  but  we  reached  Macon  in  safety.  It  was  then 
a  comparatively  small  place,  just  rising  into  notice. 
We  had  no  Bishop,  and  the  Conference  chose  my 
Presiding  Elder,  Rev.  Thomas  Samford,  for  its  Presi- 
dent. The  business  progressed  pleasantly  under  his 
administration,  and  at  the  close  my  name  was  an- 
nounced for  Augusta.  I  returned  home  and  found 
my  wife  improving,  so  that  in  a  week  or  two  we  were 
ready  to  start  for  our  destined  field  of  labor. 

"  We  went  from  Athens  to  Greensborough,  where 
we  found  lodging  and  a  cordial  welcome  from  an  old 
friend.  We  also  met  a  carriage  in  waiting,  which  our 
good  friends  in  Augusta  had  sent  to  convey  us  to  that 
city.  My  wife  was  exceedingly  feeble,  and  a  very 
frail  infant  that  she  had  given  birth  to  during  her  long 
illness  required  the  utmost;^  care  and  tenderness  in 
handling  it,  so  that  altogether  it  was  an  arduous  task 
for  me  to  convey  all  safely.  Yet,  through  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  we  at  length  reached  Augusta,  and 
with  gratitude  to  God  and  to  the  kind  friends  who 
had   so  bountifully  prepared  for  our  reception,  we 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  217 


once  more  felt  ourselves  at  home  in  the  old  Au- 
gusta parsonage.  And  now,  before  I  finally  leave  my 
last  year's  work,  a  word  or  two  about  my  Presiding 
Elder  for  the  last  two  years.  The  Rev.  Thomas  Sam- 
ford  was  a  remarkable  man  in  several  respects.  First, 
He  was  a  self-made  man,  with,  I  think,  but  few  early 
advantages,  yet  he  was  a  man  of  great  mental  ca- 
pacity. His  sermons  were  always  clear  and  able  ex- 
positions of  scriptural  truth.  He  often  rose  in  his 
pulpit  performances  to  a  strain  of  lofty  eloquence,  and 
was  not  unfrequently  perfectly  overwhelming  in  his 
appeals  from  the  sacred  desk.  He  was  greatly  ad- 
mired and  beloved  by  the  people  of  his  charge,  yet 
he  was  subject  to  great  fluctuation  of  feeling,  and 
sometimes  at  his  camp-meetings,  where  the  Presiding 
Elder  is  always  expected  to  take  a  prominent  part  in 
the  work,  he  would  scarcely  preach  at  all  if  he  could 
get  any  sort  of  an  apology  of  a  preacher  to  fill  the 
pulpit  in  his  place.  This  was  probably  the  result  of 
diffidence,  for  with  all  his  pulpit  power  he  was  at 
best  frequently  a  very  diffident  man." 

His  charge  was  the  same  to  which  he  had  gone  in 
1820,  and  in  which  he  had  some  hard  trials  to  his 
faith,  and  a  glorious  triumph.  The  city  had  contin- 
ued to  grow,  and  the  old  church  on  the  commons,  en- 
larged now,  was  in  the  heart  of  the  city.  There  were 
in  it  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  white  Methodists 
and  one  hundred  and  seventy-eight  colored.  The 
old,  long,  unshapely,  and  unsightly  church,  with  its 
high  galleries  all  around,  was  crowded  every  Sunday 
morning  and  night,  and  well  filled  at  three  o'clock 
Sunday  afternoon.  The  old  plan  of  services  was  still 
kept  up  :  preaching  three  times  on  Sunday  and  on 


2l8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Wednesday  night ;  prayer-meeting  on  Friday  night ; 
a  meeting  of  some  kind  six  nights  out  of  seven.  Then, 
too,  the  pastorate  covered  the  city  and  reached  to  the 
outskirts  of  Hamburgh,  at  that  time  a  flourishing  little 
town,  and  a  somewhat  threatening  rival  of  Augusta. 
Little  did  the  preacher  think  that  was  to  be  his  last 
pastorate,  but  so  it  was. 

We  have  but  one  letter  from  him  during  this  year, 
and  that,  of  course,  was  to  his  dear  mother.  William, 
her  youngest  son,  had  charge  of  the  farm.  Dear  httle 
Harbert,  the  baby  boy  he  left  in  Elbert,  was  now  a 
hopeless  cripple  ;  with  a  grand  head  and  a  noble  heart, 
he  had  not  from  his  childhood  been  able  to  walk  a 
step  ;  all  drawn  up  by  rheumatism,  he  was  preparing 
himself  now  for  that  vocation  in  which  he  was  so  use- 
ful in  after-life — the  life  of  a  teacher.  There  was  an- 
other little  girl  at  the  parsonage,  a  dear  little  Cathe- 
rine, who  was  not  to  stay  long.  Leisure  and  a 
faithful  pastor  have  little  to  do  with  each  other,  and 
James  O.  Andrew  was  a  faithful  pastor,  so  he  was 
hard  at  work. 

The  church  of  which  he  had  charge  was  one  of  the 
best  of  the  day.  Steady-going  old  Asaph  Waterman 
was  still  there — faithful  as  of  yore,  in  his  amen  corner 
from  October  to  May,  and  then  in  Buncombe  till  Oc- 
tober again.  Here  fun-loving  John  Mann,  clerk  of  the 
county,  manager  of  estates,  with  his  sweet,  quiet  little 
wife  ;  Jesse  Kent,  who  sold  supplies,  made  money,  gave 
it  liberally,  who  said  "  Amen  "  at  venture,  and  murdered 
the  king's  English,  and  a  group  of  earnest  Christian 
women  of  saintly  lives,  were  among  his  parishioners. 
There  was  a  gallery  all  around  the  house  crowded 
every  Sunday  with  colored  people,  and  every  Sunday 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


219 


afternoon  there  was  a  meeting  especially  for  them. 
The  climate  was  enervating,  and  his  health  suffered 
in  the  field.  He  had  promised  to  visit  Clarke  and 
be  at  camp-meeting,  and  carry  William  his  gun, 
and  see  the  dear  old  mother,  but  I  don't  think  he 
got  away  this  summer.  Conference  was  held  in 
Augusta,  and  Elijah  Hedding  came  for  the  first  and 
only  time  he  was  ever  in  Georgia  to  preside  over 
it. 

At  this  Conference  Andrew  received  the  largest 
vote  of  the  delegation  to  the  General  Conference. 
The  delegates  were  James  O.  Andrew,  Samuel  K. 
Hodges,  Ignatius  Few,  Benjamin  Pope,  Elijah  Sin- 
clair, WiUiam  J.  Parks,  Lovick  Pierce,  Thomas  Sam- 
ford.  Andrew  was  returned  to  Augusta,  and  George 
F.  Pierce,  in  the  second  year  of  his  ministry,  was  sent 
with  him  as  his  assistant.  Immediately  after  Confer- 
ence adjourned  he  went  with  Bishop  Hedding  and 
Professor  Parks  on  a  visit  to  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference, and  at  the  missionary  meeting  he  made  the 
address  of  which  Bishop  Wightman  tells  in  the  follow- 
ing sketch : 

At  the  ensuing  session  of  the  Conference,  held  at 
Darlington  early  in  1832,  a  decided  and  memorable 
impulse  was  given  to  the  missionary  spirit,  particu- 
larly among  the  preachers,  by  a  speech  delivered  at 
the  anniversary  of  the  Missionary  Society,  by  the 
Rev.  James  O.  (now  Bishop)  Andrew.  Professor 
Parks,  of  Virginia,  was  in  attendance  at  the  Confer- 
ence ;  his  fame  as  an  orator  had  preceded  him,  and 
the  highest  expectations  were  excited  at  the  announce- 
ment that  he  would  address  the  meeting.  After  the 
usual  preparatory  exercises,  Mr.  Andrew  was  intro- 


220 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


duced  to  the  meeting,  and  read  the  following  reso- 
lution : 

*  That  while  we  consider  false  views  of  religion  as 
being  every  way  mischievous,  and  judge  from  the  past 
that  much  evil  has  resulted  from  that  cause  among  the 
slave  population  of  this  country,  we  are  fully  per- 
suaded that  it  is  not  only  safe,  but  highly  expedient 
to  society  at  large,  to  furnish  the  slaves  as  fully  as 
possible  with  the  means  of  true  scriptural  instruction 
and  the  worship  of  God.' 

•'We  have  heard  many  good  and  clever  speeches 
in  our  time  ;  a  few,  withal,  that  deserved  to  be  called 
great.  But  foremost  in  our  recollection  stands  the 
remarkable  speech  made  by  Bishop  Andrew  on  that 
occasion. 

"  He  drew  a  picture  of  the  irreHgious,  neglected 
plantation  negro,  Claude-like  in  the  depth  of  its  tone 
and  coloring.  He  pointed  out  his  degradation,  ren- 
dered but  the  deeper  and  darker  from  the  fitful  and 
transient  flashings  up  of  desires  which  felt  after  God — 
scintillations  of  the  immortal  blood-bought  spirit  with- 
in him,  which  ever  and  again  gleamed  amidst  the 
darkness  of  his  untutored  mind.  He  pointed  out  the 
adaptation  of  the  Gospel  to  the  extremest  cases.  Its 
recovering  power  and  provisions  were  adequate  to.  the 
task  of  saving  from  sin  and  hell  all  men,  of  all  condi- 
tions of  life,  in  all  stages  of  civilization.  He  pointed 
to  the  converted  negro,  the  noblest  prize  of  the  Gos- 
pel, the  most  unanswerable  proof  of  its  efficiency. 
There  he  was,  mingling  his  morning  songs  with  the 
matin-chorus  of  the  birds,  sending  up  his  orisons  to 
God  under  the  light  of  the  evening  star ;  contented 
with  his  lot,  cheerful  in  his  labors,  submissive  for  con- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


221 


science  sake  to  plantation  discipline,  happy  in  life, 
hopeful  in  death,  and  from  his  lowly  cabin  carried  at 
last  to  the  angels  in  Abraham's  bosom. 

Who  could- resist  such  an  appeal,  in  which  argu- 
ment was  fused  with  perfect  eloquence  ?  The  speech 
carried  by  storm  the  whole  assembly.  '  Ah,'  said  a 
gentleman,  high  in  political  life,  *  I  have  heard  Henry 
Clay  in  his  happiest  moods,  but  he  is  nothing  as  an 
orator  to  Mr.  Andrew.'  Professor  Parks  dexterously 
excused  himself  from  making  a  speech  when  his  turn 
came  round." 

His  labors  in  Augusta  were  very  greatly  lessened 
by  his  young  colleague.  Although  he  had  been  a 
preacher  only  one  year,  and  was  but  twenty-one 
years  old,  he  was  the  wonder  and  the  delight  of  the 
city.  His  fame  had  already  filled  the  State,  and  now 
crowds  flocked  to  hear  him.  There  was  one  person 
whose  presence  embarrassed  him.  That  one  was  his 
senior.  To  preach  before  him  was  a  trial,  and  for  a 
few  times  the  older  preacher  yielded  to  his  wish  and  ^ 
retired, .but  then  he  told  him  he  would  do  so  no  more. 
Bishop  Pierce  says  of  his  colleague's  personal  appear- 
ance : 

"  Bishop  Andrew's  head  was  phrenologically  fine, 
but  the  features  of  his  face  were  broad  and  strong,  in- 
clining to  coarseness  ;  and  the  solemn  gravity  of  his 
look  when  in  repose,  or  when  performing  any  minis- 
terial service,  would  have  misled  an  unpracticed  eye 
in  judging  of  his  character.  A  stranger  would  never 
dream  that  that  rugged  countenance  could  soften  into 
beauty,  grow  radiant  with  humor,  and  beam  with 
magnetic  love  ;  but  as  the  brightest  waters  gush  from 
among  the  craggy  rocks,  and  the  sweetest  flowers 


222 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


bloom  amid  the  thorns,  so  he  could  wither  with  his 
rebuke  and  petrify  with  his  frown,  and  awe  with  his 
dignity,  and  startle  with  his  voice  of  authority.  He 
was,  both  by  nature  and  by  grace,  gentle  as  a  nurse 
cherishing  her  children,  soft  as  a  dove  cooing  to  its 
mate,  meek  as  a  Christian  praying  for  his  enemies." 

Such  was  his  appearance  then.  In  his  family  the 
young  preacher  lived.  Andrew  had  no  son,  and 
George  was  son  and  brother  to  him.  He  lavished  his 
love  upon  his  young  colleague,  and  the  young  preacher 
regarded  him  with  the  warm,  trusting  affection  of  a 
younger  brother,  and  his  admiration  for  the  brilliant 
preaching  of  his  colleague  was  immense. 

He  says  of  him  :  As  a  preacher  he  was  somewhat 
unique.  He  had  no  model.  He  stood  alone.  He  was 
original,  not  so  much  by  creative  power  as  by  his  pecu- 
liar style  of  appropriation.  He  never  dwelt  in  propo- 
sitions ;  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  divisions — firstly, 
secondly,  thirdly,  and  lastly.  He  dealt  with  one  great 
leading  idea,  and  that  idea  he  made  to  revolve  upon  its 
own  axis,  until  every  spot  of  its  surface  was  bathed  in 
sunlight.  His  powers  of  amplification  were  amazing  ; 
and  on  some  of  his  favorite  themes,  when  his  mind  was 
free,  the  opening  of  his  mouth  was  like  the  letting  out  of 
many  waters,  nor  was  it  a  thin  sheet  turning  into  spray 
and  descending  in  mist,  but  a  thundering  volume  that 
rushed  and  roared  and  swept  on  resistlessly.  Those 
who  heard  him  only  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life  will 
regard  what  I  am  saying  as  extravagant,  but  I  know 
whereof  I  affirm.  Making  him  a  Bishop  ruined  him  as 
a  preacher.  Soon  after  his  election  he  conceived  the 
idea  that  he  must  be  an  example  of  extreme  simpli- 
city, for  the  benefit  of  the  younger  brethren  in  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


223 


ministry,  lest,  I  suppose,  by  undertaking  to  imitate 
him,  they  should  render  themselves  ridiculous  ;  and 
hence  he  changed  his  style ;  he  compelled  his  mind 
to  work  unnaturally  ;  he  cut  off  the  inspiration  that 
used  to  bear  him  up  and  carry  him  along  quite  above 
the  level  of  common  men.  In  his  palmiest  days  there 
was  always  a  peculiarity  in  Bishop  Andrew's  preach- 
ing that  distinguished  him  from  all  others.  The  first 
half  of  his  sermons  was  always  the  best — often  lofty, 
grand,  imperial  in  the  range  of  thought,  the  sweep  of 
imagination,  the  wealth  of  words.  The  latter  half  was 
commonly  colloquial,  simple,  and  sometimes  common- 
place. It  seemed  to  me  that  in  prayer  and  medita- 
tion and  communion  with  God  he  had  ascended  some 
lofty  elevation,  some  bright  mount  of  vision ;  and 
when  he  entered  the  pulpit  and  announced  his  text, 
he  launched  out  on  bold,  broad  pinions,  like  an  angel 
flying  through  the  midst  of  the  heavens  ;  and  by  and 
by  he  grew  weary  and  commenced  to  descend  by  gra- 
dations, until  at  last  he  walked  upon  the  earth  like  an 
ordinary  mortal.  Here  is  the  explanation  of  the  com- 
parative feebleness  of  his  latter  years.  His  mental 
action  depended  upon  his  muscular  energies,  and  when 
the  high-wrought  tension  of  his  system  gave  way  his 
mind  let  down,  and,  like  a  motive-power  in  machinery, 
ceased  to  operate  because  the  fuel  was  consumed. 
But  those  to  whom  he  ministered  in  the  days  of  his 
strength  will  never  forget  it." 

His  preaching  was  eminently  practical.  He  was 
intensely  in  earnest.  He  wished  to  save  souls  and  he 
aimed  right  at  that  point.  He  was  not  a  speculative 
philosopher  nor  a  subtle  theologian.  He  was  a  Chris- 
tian minister  whose  knowledge  of  positive  Christian 


224 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


truth  enabled  him  with  authority  to  present  it  and  en- 
force it.  He  was  emphatically  a  revivaUst — not  sen- 
sational in  methods,  but  still  less  the  slave  of  routine. 
There  was  a  revival  in  every  work  of  which  he  ever 
had  charge  after  the  first  one,  and  after  he  became  a 
Bishop  he  was  a  most  effective  worker  in  such  meet- 
ings. To  exhort,  pray,  sing,  or  talk  to  a  mourner,  he 
did  with  the  same  efficiency. 

In  February  he  wrote  his  mother  : 

"Augusta,  February  27,  1832. 

My  Beloved  Mother  : 

I  had  expected  before  this  time  to  have  visited 
you  again,  but  various  circumstances  have  prevented 
the  accomplishment  of  this  expectation.  My  repeated 
attacks  of  illness  last  fall  compelled  me  to  neglect  my 
people  so  mueh,  and  my  approaching  departure  for 
Philadelphia  will  probably  detain  me  from  them  for  two 
months.  All  these  circumstances  have  made  me  feel 
that  I  ought  not  to  leave  them  until  that  time.  I  earn- 
estly hope  that  your  health  is  better  than  when  Har- 
bert  Avrote  to  Amelia,  and  that  you  are  all  getting 
along  comfortably.  I  have  requested  Brother  Pierce 
to  pay  into  your  hands  $20,  which  he  was  to  collect 
for  me  in  Athens.  I  thought  you  might  need  it  to 
purchase  flour,  or  some  little  matters  which  I  had 
not  furnished  you  with.  I  hope  you  have  received  it 
and  that  it  will  be  a  seasonable  supply.  I  received 
for  you  from  the  Fund  of  Special  Relief  at  the  Confer- 
ence $40,  and  Brother  Samford  requested  me  to  pre- 
sent you  with  $10.  For  the  articles  which  I  sent 
you  by  Mr.  Appling  I  paid  between  $25  and  $30. 
I  paid  for  your  pork  $45,  and  I  have  sent  by  Brother 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


225 


Graves,  to  pay  for  shingling  the  shed,  $1 1.25.  I  have 
merely  inserted  the  foregoing  statement  that  you 
might  understand  what  was  received  for  you  by  me, 
and  how  it  has  been  expended,  and  I  have  now  only 
to  add  on  this  point  that  if  at  any  time  you  need 
anything  let  me  know  it,  and  if  in  my  power  you 
shall  be  supplied.  Say  to  William  that  I  am  glad  to 
hear  he  is  getting  along  so  well  with  his  farm,  and 
wish  him  a  prosperous  crop  year.  With  respect  to 
myself,  my  health  is  not  entirely  good,  though  it  is 
greatly  improved,  and  I  trust  that  my  northern  trip, 
with  God's  blessing,  will  quite  restore  me.  Amelia's 
health  is  moderate  ;  little  Catharine  has  been  very 
sick,  but  is  now  much  mended.  The  rest  are  well. 
I  am  endeavoring  to  be  a  better  man  and  more 
efficient  minister,  and,  I  trust,  am  making  some  prog- 
ress, but  oh,  how  slow  !  Lord,  quicken  me.  In  the 
church  here  we  have  nothing  special ;  congregations 
large,  and  George  Pierce  wonderfully  popular.  He 
is,  indeed,  a  first-rate  young  man. 

I  hope,  by  God's  blessing,  to  visit  you  all  next 
summer.  I  trust  that  God  will  have  you  all  in  His 
holy  keeping,  and  that  His  grace  and  peace  may  be 
your  portion  continually.  Amelia  has  a  large  school, 
which  keeps  her  quite  busy.  She  unites  in  affection- 
ate remembrance  to  you  and  all  the  girls,  including 
Matilda  and  Lucy,  as  also  to  Harbert  and  William, 
and  so  do  all  our  little  girls.  Tell  Harbert  and  Wil- 
liam that  if  I  have  time  I  will  write  to  them  both  while 
at  the  North.  And  now,  my  dearest  mother,  adieu. 
May  Heaven's  choicest  blessings  be  yours  is  the 
prayer  of  Your  affectionate  son, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

lO* 


226 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


He  left  for  the  General  Conference  which  was  to 
meet  in  Philadelphia  early  in  April.  He  could  not, 
strange  as  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  should  be  so,  dis- 
guise from  himself  the  fact  that  he  was  now  a  leader 
among  his  brethren.  He  felt  the  missionary  fire  burn- 
ing within  him  and  he  was  ready  to  go  to  Africa, 
which  was  at  that  time  the  most  promising  missionary 
field  of  the  Church. 

Amelia  writes  to  his  mother  after  his  departure 
thus  : 

"  Augusta,  May  7,  1832. 

"My  Dear  Mother: 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  you  may  think  an  apology 
necessary  for  my  long  silence,  but  I  really  believe  if 
you  knew  all  the  circumstances  which  surround  me, 
you  would  at  least  throw  the  veil  of  charity  over  my 
supposed  fault.  As  you  know,  I  am  confined  nearly 
all  day  in  school,  and  at  present  we  are  painting  and 
papering  our  house,  which,  in  addition  to  the  quan- 
tity of  work  which  you  know  I  must  always  have  to 
do,  necessarily  keeps  me  very  much  engaged,  and  I 
thought  I  would  delay  writing  until  I  heard  from  Mr. 
Andrew,  which  I  did  on  Saturday  evening.  He  wrote 
from  New  York,  where  he  arrived  in  safety  and  good 
spirits,  on  April  26th,  after  rather  a  pleasant  passage 
of  a  week  ;  he  said  nothing  of  his  health,  but  I  infer, 
from  his  letter,  that  it  was  good.  I  begin  almost  to 
fear  that  we  shall  not  see  him  as  soon  as  we  hope  to 
do,  for  I  am  informed  that  even  some  of  the  Northern 
preachers  are  willing  to  allow  ONE  Southern  Bishop, 
and  if  so,  I  fear  he  may  at  least  stand  as  good  a  chance 
as  any  other  man.    I  try  to  commit  all  my  care  into 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


227 


the  hands  of  Him  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  who  come  unto  Him.  But  what  would  you 
think  if,  instead  of  being  made  a  Bishop,  he  should 
be  sent  on  a  foreign  mission  ?  The  Bishops  have  long 
desired  a  missionary  to  go  to  Africa,  and  it  appears  a 
difficult  task  to  find  a  suitable  man.  Mr.  Andrew  has 
had  serious  thoughts  upon  the  subject.  I  know  not 
that  he  w^ill  feel  at  liberty  to  offer,  but  if  it  should  be 
proposed  to  him  by  the  Bishops,  I  am  almost  certain 
he  would  not  draw  back.  I  told  him,  before  he  left 
home,  to  act  as  he  thought  right.  To  be  sure,  it 
would  be  the  greatest  trial  I  ever  had,  and  particu- 
larly to  take  my  daughters  there ;  but  I  know  he  will 
do  nothing  but  what  he  firmly  believes  his  duty,  and 
if  he  thinks  that  is,  then  let  him  go. 

"  George  Pierce  says  he  is  determined  to  go  w^ith 
him  if  the  Church  should  approve  of  him.  It  is  a  seri- 
ous subject,  and  you  may  never  be  put  to  this  trial ; 
but  if  the  Lord  should  use  him  as  His  instrument  of 
establishing  a  church  in  that  degraded  country,  I 
should  rejoice  to  bear  with  him  the  labors  and  trials 
of  a  missionary's  life.  I  know  that  nothing  short  of  a 
firm  persuasion  that  the  Lord  has  specially  called  him 
to  that  important  work  w'ould  induce  him  to  engage 
in  it.  Let  us  pray  for  the  Divine  direction  in  this,  as 
in  all  other  cases.  We  are  all  in  health.  Our  religious 
prospects  are  but  tolerable,  though  our  congregations 
are  very  good.  George  really  acquits  himself  well ; 
his  preaching  is  with  power,  and  his  conduct  as  cir- 
cumspect as  an  old  man's.  He  appears  to  feel  the 
weight  of  his  present  charge  greatly. 

"The  children  unite  with  me  in  affectionate  re- 
gards to  yourself  and  all  the  family.    Tell  Harbert  I 


228 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


will  write  him  the  next  time  I  hear  from  Mr.  Andrew. 
I  remain,  my  dear  mother, 

Your  affectionate  daughter, 

A.  A.  Andrew." 

The  Episcopal  office  is  not  considered  so  much  of 
an  affliction  in  this  year  of  grace  1882  as  it  was  in 
those  days  fifty  years  ago  ;  but  there  are  few  wives 
who  love  as  Amelia  Andrew  loved,  who  are  willing 
even  now  to  see  their  husbands  in  an  office  which 
makes  them  widows  and  their  children  orphans.  She 
was  ready,  however,  to  give  him  up  if  need  be  ;  nay, 
more,  she  was  willing  to  go  with  him  to  Africa,  and 
to  die  with  him  there. 

Mr.  Andrew,  with  his  companions,  went  by  water  to 
New  York  and  thence  to  Philadelphia,  and  was  there 
in  time  for  the  roll-call  of  Martin  Ruter,  Secretary,  on 
Tuesday,  May  ist. 

Of  all  the  delegates  (and  it  was  a  large  Conference) 
two  only  from  the  South  are  living  now,  H.  H. 
Kavanaugh  and  Robert  Paine,  both  for  a  long  time 
Bishops  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South. 

Mr.  Andrew  was  placed  on  the  Committee  on  Epis- 
copacy. The  session  was  unexciting,  except  when 
the  question  of"  How  many  new  Bishops  should  be 
chosen  and  who  should  they  be,"  was  considered. 

The  Committee  on  Episcopacy  reported  in  favor  of 
three.  The  Conference  decided  to  elect  two.  Perhaps 
there  was  no  man  in  the  body  who  had  less  desire  to 
be  a  Bishop  than  James  O.  Andrew,  and  perhaps  no 
man  who  had  less  expectation  of  being  chosen  to  the 
office. 

He  did  not  beheve  he  was  qualified  for  it.  He 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


229 


dreaded  its  responsibilities.  He  could  not  reconcile 
himself  to  long  absence  from  a  home  he  loved  as  few 
men  have  ever  loved  one,  and  from  a  wife  and  little 
girls  so  dependent  upon  him.  Samuel  K.  Hodges 
was  the  first  to  approach  him  on  the  subject.  He 
candidly  told  Hodges  his  objections,  and  refused  to 
be  a  candidate.  Hodges  insisted,  and  among  other 
reasons  urged  that  peace  and  harmony  would  be  se- 
cured by  his  election.  At  last  he  reluctantly  con- 
sented, and  was  triumphantly  elected  on  the  first  bal- 
lot. Dr.  Bangs  said  he  was  put  forth  as  the  Southern 
candidate,  and  a  reason  for  his  election  was  that  he 
was  not  connected  with  slavery.  So  said  the  reply  to 
the  protest.  So  said  Alfred  Grififith.  And  the  opinion 
has  been  long  held  that  he  was  elected  mainly  because  • 
he  was  not  a  slave-holder  ;  that  there  were  men  from 
the  South  who  were  more  in  favor  with  the  General 
Conference,  and  who  would  have  been  elected  but 
that  they  were  disqualified  by  being  slave-owners ; 
and  there  has  been  more  than  an  intimation  that  he 
knew  this,  and  that  his  friends  urged  the  fact  that  he 
held  no  slaves  as  a  ground  upon  which  his  claims  to 
the  Northern  vote  rested,  and  thus  secured  it,  and  that 
his  becoming  a  slave-holder  after  this  time  was  in 
violation  of  an  understanding,  if  not  a  contract.  The 
reply  to  the  protest  asserts  this,  and  supports  its  as- 
sertion by  the  statement  that  Bishop  Andrew  said 
that  it  was  his  poverty  and  not  his  ability  which  made 
him  a  Bishop.  This  statement  of  the  case  has  some 
appearance  of  support  from  the  remark  of  the  Bishop 
that  he  was  put  forth  in  the  interests  of  peace  ;  but  it 
is  not  true  that  he  was  elected  because  he  was  not 
a  slave-owner ;  it  is  not  true  that  if  he  had  been  in 


230 


The  Life  aitd  Letters  of 


1832  what  he  was  in  1844  he  would  have  been  cer- 
tainly defeated  for  the  Episcopal  office.  Bishop  Red- 
ding refused  to  concur  with  his  colleagues  in  sending 
William  Capers,  a  slave-holder,  to  the  Wesleyan  Con- 
ference. The  year  afterward  the  General  Conference 
elected  Capers  a  delegate,  and  he  was  long  after  this 
a  Missionary  Secretary.  The  General  Conference  of 
1836  was  so  opposed  to  abolitionism  that  it  con- 
demned it  by  positive  resolutions.  The  Southern 
delegates  were  almost  as  numerous  in  1832  as  the 
Northern,  and,  with  a  few  votes  from  the  West,  could 
have  elected  any  man  that  the  South. put  forward. 
The  peace  interests  which  Bishop  Andrew  was  elected 
to  secure  were  not  between  the  slavery  and  anti-slavery 
men  ;  they  were  between  opposing  sections  of  the 
South  itself,  and  between  the  High  and  Low  Church 
parties.  The  Bishop  was  to  be  elected  ;  he  must  come 
from  the  South  ;  there  was  no  man  so  entirely  unob- 
jectionable as  James  O.  Andrew  to  all  parties.  He 
was  young,  vigorous,  peerless  as  a  preacher,  of  spot- 
less character,  moderate  in  his  opinions,  modest,  re- 
tiring, and  yet  courageous  ;  he  had  been  in  the  Gen- 
eral Conference,  but  in  the  heated  strife  of  1820  and 
1824  had  so  borne  himself  as  not  to  incur  the  en- 
mity of  the  progressives  ;  add  to  this  that  he  did  not 
hold  slaves,  and  might  never  do  so,  and  he  was  a 
candidate  presenting  an  array  of  strength  that  ren- 
dered him  at  once  the  choice  of  those  who  desired  the 
election  of  a  man  from  the  South. 

No  man  has  ever  had  the  temerity  to  assert  that  he 
was  pledged  never  to  hold  slaves,  or  that  he  had 
ever  expressed  himself  as  opposed  to  slave-holding  in 
the  South.    William  Winans,  who  desired  the  election 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


231 


of  William  Capers,  came  to  Mr.  Andrew  and  told  him 
frankly  that  the  fact  of  his  not  owning  slaves  was  se- 
curing him  votes,  and  that  he  would  not  vote  for  him. 
Mr.  Andrew  told  Mr.  Winans  plainly  that  his  views  on 
the  subject  of  slave-holding  were  the  same  with  those 
he  (Winans)  held.  He  never  gave  a  pledge  nor  allowed 
one  to  be  given,  nor  was  any  one  under  misconception 
as  to  how  he  stood.  If  any  man  was  so  intensely  anti- 
slavery  as  to  cast  a  vote  for  him  merely  because  he 
was  not  a  slave-holder,  and  was  under  the  impression 
that  he  was  opposed  to  slave-owning,  the  blindness 
was  wilful. 

The  fact  of  his  not  owning  slaves  may  have  secured 
him  some  votes,  but  it  did  not  elect  him.  He  was 
chosen  because  of  his  high  qualification  for  the  office 
to  which  he  was  elevated.  He  was  not  pledged  to 
any  party.  He  took  his  office  on  the  broad  platform 
of  the  Discipline.  He  knew  the  opposition  of  a  very 
large  party  in  the  South  as  well  as  the  North  to  the 
holding  of  slaves,  and  he  respected  that  prejudice  and 
never  became  possessed  of  a  slave  by  purchase  nor 
held  one  by  preference.  He  could  have  been  easily 
elected  if  he  had  held  slaves  in  case  the  South  had 
voted  for  him  in  a  body,  with  the  aid  of  a  few  votes 
from  the  West  and  Middle  States. 

We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  on  this  rather  im- 
portant point,  since  it  has  its  bearing  on  a  matter  yet 
to  be  discussed.^ 

'  After  this  section  was  written  I  forwarded  it  to  Bishop  Paine,  who 
was  a  member  of  that  General  Conference,  and  received  from  him  the 
following  reply  : 

"Aberdeen.,  Miss.,  June  7,  1882. 

*'  My  Dear  Brother  Smith  : 

"  Since  my  return  from  General  Conference  1  have  been  too  unwell 


232 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Dr.  Pierce  says:  "  He  was  elected  and  ordained  a 
Bishop  in  Philadelphia,  May,  1832,  receiving  a  higher 
vote  than  John  Emory — made  a  Bishop  at  the  same  time 
— who  was  deservedly  regarded  as  the  master-mind  of 
his  generation.  I  mention  this  for  a  wise  reason  in  this 
brief  sketch  of  Bishop  Andrew's  Episcopal  record.  The 
day  after  his  election,  I  said  to  him  as  my  protdgd,  *  I 
congratulate  you  on  the  honor  done  you  in  this  elec- 
tion to  the  highest  order  of  confidence  and  trust  known 
in  our  Church.'  To  this,  with  quivering  lips  and  tear- 
ful eyes,  he  replied :  *  It  is  not  my  merit  that  has 
made  me  a  Bishop,  but  my  poverty.'  Meaning,  really, 
that  it  was  the  accident  of  poverty  preventing  him 
from  owning  a  slave  which  would  have  rendered  him 
ineligible  according  to  abolition  decree.  I  wish  to 
say  here,  as  this  may  go  down  to  posterity,  what  will 
be  just  to  both  sides" in  so  far  as  Andrew's  Episcopacy 
is  involved.  As  he  admitted,  if  poverty  had  not  been 
in  his  way  he  would  of  course  have  owned  one  or  two 


to  do  much  or  look  up  old  documents,  but  if  I  get  able  will  do  better 
and  write  you. 

"I  think  your  MS,  is  right  as  to  Bishop  Andrew,  and  requires  no 
important  correction.  I  return  it  lest  you  may  need  it  before  I  can 
give  it  the  attention  wished  for.  I  concur  with  your  represeutation  of 
the  Bishop's  character  and  views.  I  never  knew  a  purer  or  more 
transparent  man. 

*'  As  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Episcopacy  in  1844,  and  of  the 
Special  Committee  of  Nine,  I  had  much  to  say  and  do  with  Bishop  An- 
drew about  his  connection  with  slavery,  and  having  talked  with  him  and 
voted  for  him  ia  1832,  I  think  I  know  all  the  facts  to  be  as  I  now  un- 
derstand you  to  relate  them.  The  encomium  bestowed  upon  him  by  Dr. 
Olin  in  1844  was  true.  But  I  cannot  write  more  now — am  suffering  too 
much;  but  if  I  find  my  private  journal  of  1832  will  try  again. 

**  Yours  truly, 

"R.  Paine." 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  233 

family  slaves.  But  Bishep  Andrew  was  not  a  pro- 
slavery  man  without  a  much  stricter  moral  view  of 
slavery  than  slave-holders  generally  observed.  And 
as  to  his  electors,  I  say  for  them  that  while  many  of 
them  would  not  have  cast  a  vote  for  him  if  he  had 
owned  a  slave,  still  he  was  wrong,  in  some  degree,  in 
resting  his  election  on  the  ground  of  his  poverty.  He* 
was  elected  on  the  ground  of  a  well-defined  capacity, 
of  sound,  strong  mind,  and  of  suitable  executive  will. 
Bishop  Andrew's  election  to  the  Episcopal  office  was 
no  sham  on  the  part  of  his  electors.  His  having  no 
slaves  was  a  fortunate  fact  for  him,  I  allow;  but  I 
maintain  that  it  was  the  merit  of  his  life  and  the  great- 
ness of  his  mind  that  gained  for  him  his  Episcopal 
office." 

No  man  was  more  grieved  than  himself  at  his 
election.  The  hardest  appointment  he  ever  had  in 
his  life,  even  the  Charleston  District,  when  sick, 
moneyless,  without  a  house  or  furniture,  he  went  to  a 
work  he  knew  would  not  support  him,  was  not  so 
afflictive  as  this  election.  To  some  men  it  would  not 
have  been  so  ;  to  him  it  was  so,  and  he  would  gladly 
have  laid  down  the  office  at  any  time  for  the  humblest 
circuit  in  his  Conference.  And  so  with  his  dear  wife. 
Grateful  as  she  was  at  his  progress,  joyous  as  any  wife 
must  have  been  at  the  place  he  had  won  by  his  own 
sturdy  effi)rts,  she  was  not  the  less  afflicted  at  the  pros- 
pect of  long,  dreary  days  of  absence  from  him,  for 
she  knew  him  too  well  not  to  know  that  if  he  became 
a  Bishop  a  Bishop  he  would  be.  And  then  how, 
he  thought,  could  he  meet  the  demands  of  the  office — 
how  little  was  he  qualified  for  it  by  nature,  and  how 
limited  were  his  attainments.    All  his  colleagues,  save 


234 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Emory,  were  older  .than  himself,  and  Emory,  highly 
gifted  and  long  a  leader,  had  all  that  wealth  and  posi- 
tion and  high  culture  could  give. 

Andrew  was  always  self-distrustful  and  timid,  and 
while  he  could  not  feel  that  he  was  justifiable  in  de- 
clining the  place  to  which  he  was  chosen,  he  was  bur- 
dened at  the  prospect  before  him.  In  his  reminis- 
cences, however,  he  tells  of  the  eventful  Conference  : 

"  I  have  said  in  a  former  number  that  I  had  a  very 
indistinct  recollection  of  the  doings  of  the  General 
Conference  of  1832.  There  is  one  subject,  however, 
connected  with  their  doings,  of  which  I  have  a  very 
distinct  recollection.  In  consequence  of  the  death  of 
Bishop  George,  and  the  increasing  infirmities  of  Bishop 
McKendree,  it  was  determined  to  elect  two  additional 
Superintendents  during  the  session  of  the  General 
Conference.  This  resolution,  of  course,  gave  rise  to 
many  speculations  and  nominations,  and  I  was  given 
to  understand  by  some  of  my  friends  that  my  name 
would  be  brought  forward  as  a  candidate  for  the  office. 
This  announcement  filled  me  with  a  good  deal  of  anx- 
iety. When  I  considered  the  weighty  responsibilities 
involved  in  the  office  of  a  Methodist  Bishop,  and  then 
measured  these  by  my  own  qualifications,  I  shrank 
from  it,  but  I  could  scarcely  persuade  myself  that  the 
Conference  would  elect  me,  and  this  conviction,  or 
perhaps  I  should  call  it  hope,  was  very  materially  in- 
creased by  the  following  circumstance.  It  was  an- 
nounced that  I  was  to  preach  on  the  succeeding  Sab- 
bath, I  think  in  St.  George's  church.  Thither  I  re- 
paired at  the  appointed  hour,  with  a  mind  utterly  con- 
fused, and  with  that  sort  of  paralyzing  influence  on  all 
the  faculties  of  mind  and  heart  which  is  a  sure  fore- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


235 


runner  of  failure.  And  when  I  arose  in  the  pulpit 
and  surveyed  the  congregation,  and  saw  on  all  sides 
of  me  the  members  of  the  General  Conference  from 
East,  West,  North,  and  South  staring  at  me,  I  felt  that 
1  was  to  preach  a  trial  sermon,  for  the  most  of  them 
had  been  drawn  thither  by  the  singular  announce- 
ment that  one  of  the  candidates  for  the  Episcopacy 
was  to  fill  the  pulpit  at  that  hour. 

"  Well,  I  took  my  text  and  began,  and  what  then  ? 
Why,  I  made  a  glorious  failure.  My  friends  were 
completely  chapfallen,  and  as  I  gazed  on  the  counte- 
nances of  those  who  were  strangers  to  me,  the  ex- 
pression seemed  to  be,  *  He  won't  do  for  a  Bishop,'  in 
which  I  was  most  heartily  disposed  to  concur.  The 
next  day  I  met  some  of  my  friends,  and  the  truth  is  I 
was  afraid  to  look  them  in  the  face,  their  counte- 
nances seeming  considerably  changed  since  I  met 
them  last.  'Well,'  said  I,  *  I  hope  you  are  satisfied 
now,  and  will  let  me  remain  as  I  am,'  and  I  really 
supposed  the  sermon  had  destroyed  all  my  prospects 
for  the  Episcopacy  ;  but  whether  my  election  resulted 
from  the  testimony  of  some  of  my  more  partial  friends, 
who  told  them  the  sermon  in  question  was  not  a  fair 
specimen  and  that  I  could  preach  a  more  favorable 
one,  or  from  some  other  cause,  I  know  not,  yet  some 
days  after,  when  the  election  for  two  Bishops  came 
on.  Dr.  John  Emory  and  myself  were  elected  at  the 
first  balloting. 

"  This  was  a  trying  period  of  my  life.  Should  I  ac- 
cept the  appointment  thus  tendered  me  ?  This  was  a 
grave  question.  On  the  one  hand  I  was  not  insensi- 
ble to  this  mark  of  confidence  on  the  part  of  the 
Church,  and  I  confess  I  felt  gratified  that  it  had  been 


236  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

bestowed  so  unanimously.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
addition  to  the  deep  sense  of  the  weight  of  responsi- 
bility of  the  office,  and  my  inadequacy  to  meet  the 
obligation  it  imposed,  I  felt  that,  in  the  language  of 
Bishop  Soule  on  a  similar  occasion,  from  the  moment 
I  accepted  it  I  was  to  regard,  in  som.e  sense,  my  wife 
a  widow  and  my  children  fatherless.  I  loved  home  ; 
perhaps  few  men  have  a  keener  relish  for  domestic 
enjoyments  than  myself.  The  duties  of  the  Episco- 
pacy, I  knew  full  well,  would  make  a  sad  breach  in  what 
I  regarded  the  chief  of  earthly  pleasures — the  society 
of  wife  and  children.  After  carefully,  and,  I  trust, 
prayerfully  weighing  the  matter,  I  finally  concluded — 
as  I  had  always  regarded  myself  in  some  sort  as  a 
child  of  Providence,  having  consecrated  myself  to  the 
services  of  the  Church  of  God,  and  as  the  voice  of 
Providence  now  seemed  to  call  me  to  these  new  du- 
ties and  responsibilities,  and  that  without  any  agency 
of  my  own — that  it  was  my  duty  to  accept  the  office, 
and  I  accordingly  signified  my  acceptance,  and  in  due 
time  Dr.  Emory  and  myself  were  set  apart,  by  the  im- 
position of  hands,  to  the  office  and  work  of  Bishops  in 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

"A  few  days  subsequently  the  Conference  closed, 
and  we  were  wending  our  way  homeward.  From 
Philadelphia  tb  Baltimore  I  had  the  pleasure  of  con- 
versing with  the  venerable  McKendree.  I  stated  to 
the  Bishop  that  I  had  been  unexpectedly  called  to  an 
office  for  the  duties  of  which  I  felt  myself  very  badly 
qualified,  and  requested  from  him  such  suggestions  as 
to  my  conduct  and  principles  in  this  new  position  as 
his  age,  wisdom,  and  long  experience  might  suggest 
to  him  as  the  most  important  for  me  to  regard.  The 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


237 


substance  of  that  conversation  I  shall  never  forget. 
After  some  appropriate^and  fatherly  advice  as  to  the 
importance  of  maintaining  deep  personal  piety,  he 
closed  with  these  words  :  'James,  I  have  but  little  more 
to  say  to  you,  nor  is  it  necessary.  I  will  only  say  this : 
that  while  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  your  office, 
carefully  avoid  responsibilities  which  do  not  belong  to 
you  ;  be  sure  you  never  shrink  from  any  which  legiti- 
mately belongs  to  your  position,  and  never  forget  that 
he  who,  from  any  consideration  whatever,  shrinks 
from  the  responsibilities  which  appropriately  belong 
to  his  office,  assumes  the  most  fearful  of  all  responsi- 
bilities' The  venerable  man  closed,  but  the  impres- 
sion made  upon  me  by  those  words  has  never  been 
erased,  and  often  since  that  hour  when  I  have  been 
placed  in  circumstances  of  painful  trial,  when  my  own 
ease  and  comfort  has  urged  me  to  shrink,  how  the 
words  of  that  venerable  and  time-honored  servant  of 
God  sounded  in  my  ears  ! 

When  I  reached  home  I  found  my  wife  ready  with 
cheerfulness  to  meet  any  additional  privation  which 
my  new  work  might  devolve  upon  her.  '  From  the 
time  of  our  marriage,'  said  she,  'I  have  never  been 
willing  for  you  to  have  a  settled  home  for  your  family, 
believing  that  you  would  be  more  useful  to  hold  your- 
self in  readiness  to  move  to  any  part  of  the  work  ;  but 
circumstances  are  changed.  I  think  it  is  now  time 
that  you  procure  a  permanent  home  for  your  wife 
and  children.'  To  this  reasoning  there  could  be  no 
valid  objection  ;  and  accordingly  it  was  decided  that  I 
must  seek  a  home  for  my  family.  But  the  decision 
was  one  thing  and  the  carrying  it  into  effect  another. 
How  was  I  to  get  a  home  ?    I  had  no  means  with 


238 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


which  to  procure  one  ;  for  though  I  had  been  a  trav- 
eling preacher  for  many  years,  and  had  filled  a  fair 
share  of  what  were  regarded  lucrative  appointments, 
I  had  not  saved  any  money.  I  had  barely  been  able 
to  make  both  ends  meet,  and  now  I  was  to  prepare 
for  housekeeping,  without  means  to  purchase  home  or 
furniture  ;  and  then  where  should  that  home  be  estab- 
lished ?  These  were  all  grave  questions,  to  which  the 
answers  seemed  not  so  easy.  I  was  invited  by  my  old 
friends  in  Savannah  to  make  that  city  my  headquarters. 
On  the  other  hand,  my  friends  in  Augusta  seemed 
determined  I  should  not  leave  them,  and  furnished  an 
argument  of  great  strength  in  a  subscription  of  nearly 
two  thousand  dollars.  This  was,  in  my  circumstances, 
a  decisive  argument,  especially  as  I  supposed  that  Au- 
gusta was  as  suitable  a  point  as  any  in  view  of  the  char- 
acter of  my  work.  Accordingly  Augusta  was  settled 
on  as  the  place  of  my  residence,  and  a  very  comforta- 
ble and  pleasant  house  and  lot  was  secured  for  me. 
Well  now,  for  the  first  time  since  our  marriage,  we  had 
a  home  of  our  own  and  might  have  felt  independent ; 
but,  alas  !  that  home  was  not  entirely  paid  for.  The 
house  and  lot  cost  $3,000.  The  brethren  in  Augusta 
had  done  well,  and  perhaps  could  hardly  be  expected 
to  do  more.  True,  the  brethren  in  other  portions  of 
the  State  and  in  Carolina  had  promised  to  do  some- 
thing clever  to  start  me  in  the  world,  but  the  returns 
from  these  sources  came  in  slowly,  and  the  idea  of 
having  a  note  in  bank  was  to  me  perfectly  alarming. 
I  think  I  received  from  Carolina  somewhere  about 
$100,  obtained  mainly  from  the  Black  Swamp  Cir- 
cuit, through  the  kind  exertions  of  the  Rev.  W.  W. 
King,  and  something  from  Georgetown,  through  the 


James  Osgood  A7zdrew. 


239 


kindness,  I  think,  of  Brother  Betts.  I  also  received  a 
small  amount  from  Savannah  ;  but,  after  all,  there  was 
a  deficiency  of  several  hulidred  dollars.  In  order  to  en- 
able me  to  pay  this  sum,  as  well  as  to  procure  the 
means  of  subsisting  my  family  and  procuring  the  neces- 
sary furniture,  my  wife  took  a  school,  which  aided  us 
very  materially.  Finally,  after  all  we  could  muster  we 
were  considerably  in  arrears  on  that  note  in  bank,  and 
I  hardly  know  how  we  should  have  got  safely  through 
but  that,  during  the  next  year.  Brother  Elijah  Sin- 
clair left  me  to  fill  his  place  in  Augusta  while  he  at- 
tended several  camp-meetings  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
State,  where  the  liberality  of  our  friends  furnished  him 
with  some  five  or  six  hundred  dollars,  which  about 
enabled  me  to  square  up  matters  for  the  house  and 
lot.  And  now,  as  I  am  on  this  money  subject,  it  may 
be  well  to  say  that  the  appropriations  for  the  support 
of  Bishops'  famihes  were,  at  that  time,  made  by  a  com- 
mittee of  the  Conference  in  whose  limits  the  Bishop 
resided,  and  the  money  so  appropriated  was  drawn 
from  the  funds  of  the  General  Book  Concern.  Accord- 
ingly, at  the  next  General  Conference  a  committee  of 
that  body  allowed  for  the  support  of  my  family  $600. 
I  leave  my  readers  to  judge  how  much  money  I  was 
likely  to  save  out  of  that  sum  after  supporting  my 
family  in  the  city  of  Augusta." 


240 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  VL 


EPISCOPAL  LIFE  IN  AUGUSTA. 


I 832-1 836. 


First  Four  Years  of  Episcopal  Work.— Home  Purchased  in  Augusta.— 
First  Tour. — Camp-meeting  in  Clarke. — Journey  to  Tennessee. — To 
Mississippi. — Alabama  Conference  Organized. — Georgia  Conference 
at  La  Grange. — South  Carolina. — Home  Again. — Visit  to  Florida. 
— Georgia  Conference.  —  With  Emory  at  Washington.  —  Northern 
Tour  in  1834. — Again  in  1835. — Bishop  Simpson's  Letter. — General 
Conference  at  Cincinnati. — Removal  from  Augusta  to  Chestnut 
Grove. 


HEN  the  time  came  that  he  must  leave  home 


V  V  on  his  first  tour,  which  was  to  take  him  to 
the  far  West,  he  made  arrangements  to  go  to  Clarke 
County  to  see  his  mother  and  attend  the  Clarke  Camp- 
meeting.  Nearly  twenty  years  before  the  mother 
had  seen  her  timid  boy,  on  his  little  black  pony,  ride 
away  from  the  cabin  door  in  Elbert  for  his  first  circuit, 
and  now  Bishop  Andrew,  driving  his  great  bay  horse 
Colonel,  comes  to  her  again.  He  was  her  James  yet ; 
he  never  became  anything  more  to  her.  Surely  no 
mother  ever  had  a  nobler  son,  and  no  son,  he  said 
to  the  end,  ever  had  a  lovelier  mother. 

It  was  camp- meeting  time  in  old  Clarke  just  fifty 
years  ago.  Then  the  hills  were  not  worn  out,  and 
great  plantations  had  not  taken  the  place  of  small 
farms,  and  gangs  of  negro  slaves  the  places  of  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


241 


white  yeomanry.  The  Wp-tkinsville  Camp-meeting  was 
a  great  attraction,  and  when  it  was  known  that  Bishop 
Andrew  was  to  be -there,  what  a  multitude  would 
come  !  We  must  pause  a  moment  to  get  a  view  of 
that  camp-meeting — for  camp-meetings  have  changed 
since  1809. 

In  a  great  grove  of  fine  old  oaks  the  large  taber- 
nacle had  been  erected,  with  wooden  tents  all  around. 
Before  the  Sunday  comes  great  crowds  are  already 
here,  but  on  this  day,  long  before  the  eight-o'clock 
service,  the  crowds  come  pouring  in — men  and  women 
on  horseback,  in  old-time  gigs,  in  Dearborn  and  Jersey 
wagons,  in  great  leather-swung  close  carriages,  and  in 
ox-carts.  From  Athens,  ten  miles  away,  from  the  coun- 
try around,  they  are  flocking  to  camp-meeting.  Before 
eight  o'clock  the  seats  are  filled.  Crowds  are  around 
the  tabernacle.  The  preacher  and  official  members 
fill  the  altar.  The  dear  old  sisters,  with  their  split- 
bottomed  chairs,  are  sitting  close  up.  The  horn — no 
tin  trumpets  then — the  horn  now  sends  out  its  mellow 
note.  The  preacher's  tent  is  closed,  and  every  man 
to  his  knees.  The  Amen  "  and  deep  groan,  and  now 
and  then  the  ''Bless  the  Lord,"  tell  of  the  feehngs  of 
the  worshippers,  and  then  William  J.  Parks,  the 
Presiding  Elder,  with  his  keen  eye,  his  Indian-like 
look,  has  gone  forward  to  the  stand  ;  and  now  comes 
Uncle  Andrew's  great  son  James.  His  face  evinces 
the  depth  of  his  feehng,  and  as  he  bows  in  the  Httle 
box  pulpit  to  pray,  there  is  prayer  in  his  heart,  one 
may  be  sure.  He  arises  from  his  knees  and  the  chorister 
strikes  up  a  song — perhaps  it  is  "  Come,  thou  fount  of 
every  blessing,"  with  the  chorus,  ''Lord,  revive 
us  " — and  two  thousand  voices  join  in  the  melody. 


242 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Behind  the  preacher  is  a  vast  sea  of  black  faces, 
and  in  front  of  him  thousands  of  white  ones.  How 
he  preached  in  those  days  !  He  was,  indeed,"  said 
the  Presiding  Elder  of  that  district,  "  a  grand 
camp-meeting  preacher."  It  was  no  short  half  hour's 
colloquy,  but  for  near  two  hours,  with  a  torrent  of 
eloquent  speech,  he  swept  on,  while  Mary  Andrew, 
the  gentle  mother,  looking  up  and  quietly  enjoying, 
blesses  God  that  He  called  her  son  to  the  great  work 
twenty  years  before.  It  was  a  joyous  time,  but  he 
must  leave  them  for  his  tour. 

Poor  Colonel !  The  people  were  so  glad  to  see  the 
master  that  they  foundered  the  horse,  and  John  W. 
Graves,  great-hearted  as  well  as  great  in  body,  fur- 
nished the  Bishop  with  another,  and  Lovick  Thomas 
consented  to  go  with  him,  and  so  he  went  on  his  way 
to  the  West. 

The  travelers  were  soon  in  the  Cherokee  nation, 
and  a  few  days'  travel  brought  them  close  to  the  moun- 
tains. They  spent  a  night  near  where  Jasper,  in 
Pickens  County,  now  is,  and  traveled  a  half  day 
farther  on,  when  young  Thomas  missed  his  pocket- 
book  and  was  compelled  to  return  and  search  for  it, 
so  the  Bishop  rode  on  alone.    He  says  : 

I  crossed  a  rather  noisy  stream  which  was  appro- 
priately named  '  Talking  Rock,' and  journeyed  on, 
aiming  for  the  Coosawattee  town  as  my  stopping- 
place  for  the  night.  At  length  dusk  began  to  approach  ; 
still  I  hoped  to  finish  my  journey  before  the  darkness 
fairly  set  in,  when  I  came  upon  two  wagons  firmly 
stalled,  with  no  prospect  of  escape  for  the  night ;  the 
road  was  so  narrow  that  there  was  no  possibility  of 
passing  on  either  side.  Now,  what  was  to  be  done  ?  I 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


243 


stood  for  some  time  undecided  as  to  my  course  ;  mean- 
while a  troop  of  noisy  Indians  passed  me.  They  evi- 
dently had  been  doing  more  than  tasting  whiskey,  and 
were  ripe  for  mischief.  For  a  moment  I  felt  a  sugges- 
tion of  fear,  but  it  was  momentary.  They  encountered 
me  about  half  way  up  the  hill,  but  none  of  them 
offered  me  any  interruption  save  one  or  two  who 
asked  me  for  tobacco,  and  as  many  pronounced 
whiskey  very  distinctly.  So  I  was  clear  of  the  In- 
dians. But  what  was  to  be  done  with  my  trunk  and 
sulky  ?  I  finally  resolved  to  commit  them  to  the 
care  of  the  strange  wagoners  and  proceed  myself  to 
Bell's  at  the  Coosawattee  and  return  in  the  morning 
for  them,  the  wagoners  assuring  me  that  they  would 
take  good  care  of  them,  and  they  had  no  doubt,  when 
daylight  aided  them,  they  would  be  able  to  get  the 
sulky  into  the  road  in  traveling  plight.  It  had  now 
been  quite  dark  for  some  time  and  was  raining,  and 
the  road  was  in  no  good  condition  for  my  walk  to 
Bell's  ;  however,  fixing  up  the  harness  as  well  as  I 
could,  I  took  my  horse's  bridle  and  led  him  to  my  inn 
for  the  night.  Mr.  Bell  and  his  wife  were  half,  or 
quadroon,  Cherokees,  and  seemed  to  be  clever  people. 
They  treated  me  very  well,  and  next  morning  I  sent 
back  to  the  wagoners  and  received  all  safe  and  sound. 

I  crossed  the  Coosawattee  at  this  point — a  most 
beautiful  stream— and  rode  on  to  Judge  Martin's 
through  a  splendid  body  of  land,  and  from  thence 
through  some  fine  looking  country,  till  toward  even- 
ing I  came  to  the  house  of  Mr.  McNair,  an  honest, 
industrious,  and  kind-hearted  Scotchman,  whose  wife, 
a  half-breed  Cherokee,  was  educated  at  the  Moravian 
Mission  at  Spring  Place,  formerly  under  the  care  of 


244 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Rev.  Mr.  Gambold.  She  seemed  to  be  a  most  ex- 
cellent woman,  tolerably  intelligent  and  deeply  pious. 
When  she  ascertained  my  character  she  appeared  all 
anxiety  to  make  me  as  happy  as  possible.  Mine  host 
seemed  a  prosperous  man,  living  in  a  good  brick 
house,  with  a  good  farm  and  plenty  of  the  substantial 
of  life  about  him.  The  next  morning  I  started  again 
alone,  and,  after  a  weary  ride  over  hill  and  dale,  some 
time  before  night  I  reached  -Bligh's  Ferry  and  put  up 
with  the  owner  of  the  ferry  (Bligh),  a  white  man  with 
a  full-blooded  Cherokee  wife,  who  seemed  in  no  very 
pleasant  humor  ;  whether  it  was  her  nature,  or  whether 
the  sight  of  a  white  man  and  a  Georgian  had  a  ten- 
dency to  acidify  the  sweetness  of  her  temper,  I  cannot 
say.  However,  after  I  had  been  at  my  inn  an  hour 
or  two,  who  should  ride  up  but  my  missing  friend  of 
the  lost  pocketbook.  He  had  succeeded  in  recovering 
the  lost  treasure,  but  it  had  cost  him  nearly  a  day's 
ride  to  accomplish  it,  and  by  hard  riding  had  overtaken 
me  just  as  I  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  Indian  Ter- 
ritory. Of  our  night's  lodging  it  is  useless  to  speak  ; 
an  epicure  would  have  found  some  cause  of  com- 
plaint with  our  fare,  but  we  were  plain,  hungry  travel- 
ers. There  was  enough  of  it  and  we  ate  our  share. 
Mine  host  was  himself  quite  attentive,  and  seemed 
anxious  to  make  us  comfortable,  and  we  felt  inclined 
to  take  him  at  his  word. 

The  next  morning  we  crossed  the  Tennessee  River 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Hiawassee.  I  believe  the  town  of 
Harrison  now  stands  somewhere  near  the  place  where 
I  crossed  the  Tennessee.  We  now  directed  our  course 
through  the  mountains  toward  the  town  of  McMin- 
ville.    Our  road  was  rugged  enough  ;  however,  we 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  245 

managed  to  ascend  the  Cumberland  Mountains  and 
found  lodging  at  the  cabin  of  a  hale,  hearty-looking 
old  man,  who  seemed  industrious  and  clever.  We 
had  plenty  of  very  plain,  substantial  fare,  to  which  we 
did  ample  justice  ;  especially  as  our  host,  I  presume 
in  honor  of  our  visit,  robbed  a  bee-hive,  thus  furnish- 
ing our  table  with  a  plate  of  the  most  delicious  honey- 
comb. To  be  sure,  we  had  not  the  benefit  of  candle- 
light, which  might  have  been  very  pleasant ;  but  then 
a  torch  stuck  in  the  jamb  of  the  chimney,  or  some 
grease  in  a  broken  bowl,  with  a  little  wick  in  it,  made 
an  admirable  substitute,  and  enabled  us  to  find  the 
way  to  our  mouths,  as  well  as  to  our  beds  in  the 
corner  of  the  room,  without  any  difficulty.  We  talked 
of  religion  and  had  family  prayers,  and,  on  the 
whole,  I  have  not  often  met  a  man  who  seemed  to 
be  more  happy  and  contented  than  my  old  friend  of 
the  mountain  cabin. 

The  following  evening,  after  a  pretty  rough  ride, 
we  reached  the  pleasant  village  of  McMinville  and 
found  comfortable  quarters  at  a  hotel,  which  were 
doubly  pleasant  after  nearly  a  week  of  rough  riding 
and  often  still  rougher  fare  among  the  Indians  and  the 
mountains.  The  next  day,  which  was  Saturday,  we 
traveled  on,  hoping  to  reach  Murfreesboro,  where  we 
might  spend  a  pleasant  Sabbath  ;  but  the  road  was 
rough  and  we  found  long  before  night  that  we  should 
not  be  able  to  accomplish  our  object.  So  we  put  up 
at  a  comfortable-looking  establishment  some  ten  miles 
short  of  our  intended  stopping-place.  We  found  very 
pleasant  quarters  in  the  house  of  Mr.  R.,  a  man  of 
wealth  and  intelligence,  and  a  member  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church.    I  noticed  a  large,  fine-looking  distil- 


246 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


lery,  which  I  supposed  was  used  to  convert  the  surplus 
grain  raised  on  the  farm  into  whiskey,  in  which  form 
it  was  Hkeiy  to  command  a  more  remunerative  price 
than  it  would  have  done  as  bare  grain,  either  as  corn 
or  rye.  This,  I  thought,  was  a  bad  sign  ;  but  in  those 
days  the  Church  and  the  distillery  were  not  regarded 
so  decidedly  antagonistic  each  to  the  other,  nor  was  the 
spirit  of  the  still-worm  and  the  Spirit  of  God  deemed 
so  essentially  hostile  each  to  the  other  as  they  are 
now  regarded  by  all  honest  and  sober  Christian  people. 
Hence  the  smoke  of  the  deviVs  kitchefi  (as  our  quaint 
and  sterling  old  friend,  James  Axley,  used  to  denom- 
inate the  still-house)  was  then  no  uncommon  sight 
as  it  curled  briskly  up  from  the  mountain  ravines  and 
spring  branches  of  the  country  in  almost  every  direc- 
tion. We  are  happy  to  say  that  such  sights  are  much 
more  rarely  witnessed  in  these  days. 

The  next  morning  we  started  early  and  pushed  on 
for  Murfreesboro,  which  we  reached  just  as  they 
were  commencing  service.  The  pulpit  was  occupied 
by  a  local  preacher.  We  took  our  places  in  the 
church,  and,  of  course,  as  we  were  strangers,  attracted 
some  attention.  Just  as  the  congregation  was  about 
to  be  dismissed  I  noticed  some  whispering,  and  finally 
a  good  brother,  G.  B.,  a  superannuated  preacher  of  the 
Tennessee  Conference,  who  had  charge  of  the  church 
during  the  absence  of  the  stationed  preacher,  came 
and  inquired  if  I  was  a  preacher.  Receiving  an  affir- 
mative answer,  he  announced  to  the  congregation 
that  a  strange  brother  from  Georgia  would  fill  the 
pulpit  that  afternoon.  After  dismissal  some  of  them 
ascertained  from  Brother  Thomas  my  name  and  char- 
acter.    Brother  B.  invited  me  to  go  to  his  house 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


247 


and  lodge,  which  invitation  I  accepted  The  good 
man,  upon  reflection,  very  prudently  bethought  him 
that  it  would  be  advisable  to  look  into  the  authority 
by  which  I  claimed  to  be  a  Bishop.  He  therefore 
modestly  approached  the  subject,  and,  with  a  good 
deal  of  apparent  trepidation,  hoped  I  would  not 
take  it  amiss  if  he  asked  to  see  my  parchment.  '  Not 
at  all,  brother,'  said  I ;  *  you  are  perfectly  right. 
I  give  you  credit  for  your  honest  and  faithful  ad- 
herence to  the  Discipline.  But  you  should  have 
begun  sooner ;  here  you  have  published  an  appoint- 
ment for  me  to  preach  to  your  people  without  the 
proper  examination  of  my  credentials.  Now,  the  fact 
is,  I  am  one  of  the  Bishops  of  the  Church,  and  am  on 
my  way  to  Nashville  to  preside  at  the  approaching 
Conference  ;  but  I  have  neither  certificate  nor  parch- 
ment to  prove  it.  You  are  in  a  difficulty.  What  will 
you  do  ?  However,  I  will  relieve  you  by  declining 
to  preach,  and  I  assure  you  I  shall  not  only  not  be 
hurt  with  you,  but  shall  esteem  you  for  your  faithful 
adherence  to  a  very  important  rule  of  the  Discipline.' 
The  good  man,  feeling,  I  suppose,  that  he  was  in 
rather  an  awkward  predicament,  and  that  it  was, 
possibly,  the  easiest  way  to  risk  it,  insisted  that  I 
should  preach,  and  professed  himself  satisfied  that  I 
was  a  true  man  and  a  veritable  Methodist  Bishop,  a 
fact  of  which  he  became,  I  dare  say,  more  satisfied  the 
ensuing  week  at  Nashville. 

"  The  next  day  we  had  plenty  of  company  on  our 
route  to  the  City  of  Rocks,  which  we  reached  just 
before  night,  and  I  found  myself  assigned  to  the 
house  of  H.  R.  W.  Hill  as  my  place  of  abode  during 
the  session  of  the  Conference.    I  met  from  Brother 


248 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


and  Sister  Hill  a  cordial  welcome  and  kind  entertain- 
ment, 

"The  Conference  commenced,  and  I  had  to  make 
my  debut  as  presiding  officer  of  a  large  Annual  Con- 
ferences. It  was  a  trying  position  for  me.  Around 
me  were  a  number  of  the  men  of  other  days — men 
who  had  grown  gray  in  the  service  of  God  and  truth. 
There  were  the  venerable  Garrett  and  Gwinn,  and  the 
sweet-spirited  Douglass,  besides  many  others  who 
had  known  more  years  than  the  Bishop.  I  felt  con- 
scious of  my  defects,  and  threw  myself  upon  the  in- 
dulgence of  the  Conference,  and  the  brethren  indicated 
every  disposition  to  help  me,  so  I  got  safely  through." 

The  Tennessee  Conference,  the  first  over  which 
Bishop  Andrew  presided,  was  a  strong  body.  There 
were  six  districts.  The  Conference  included  not  only 
all  that  is  now  in  both  the  Tennessee  and  Memphis 
Conferences,  but  much  that  is  in  the  North  Alabama. 
On  the  Nashville  District  the  sprightly,  earnest 
McMahon  was  Presiding  Elder.  Stationed  in  Nash- 
ville was  a  young  man,  perhaps  ten  years  the  Bishop's 
junior,  of  fine,  impressive  personal  appearance,  digni- 
fied in  bearing,  fluent  in  speech,  and  wonderfully 
gifted  with  common  sense — Alexander  L.  P.  Green 
was  his  name — while  Greenbury  Garrett,  with  the 
gifted  Thomas  L.  Douglass,  was  on  the  circuit  around 
,    the  city. 

Fountain  E.  Pitts,  the  sweetest  of  singers  and  one 
of  the  most  powerful  revival  preachers  of  his  time, 
was.  Presiding  Elder.  James  McFerrin  was  another 
of  the  cabinet.  R.  H.  Rivers,  the  life-long  friend  of 
the  Bishop,  was  a  young  man,  in  his  second  year  and 
junior  preacher  on  a  circuit. 


James  Osgood  Andretv. 


249 


George  D.  Harris  was  another  Presiding  Elder, 
while  John  B.  McFerrin  was  begging  persistently,  and 
we  may  be  sure  successfully,  for  the  La  Grange  Col- 
lege, over  which  Robert  Paine,  then  in  the  vigor  of 
his  manhood,  was  presiding  with  great  ability. 

There  were  24,412  members  in  the  boundary,  and 
540  were  in  the  Nashville  Station.  Here  the  Bishop 
tried  his  'prentice  hand  at  making  appointments.  He 
had  good  counselors,  and  we  can  see  by  the  minutes 
even  at  this  day  how  judiciously  they  were  made. 
Few  things  ever  tried  him  so  sorely  as  this  one.  Once 
he  said  to  me  :  **  The  burdens  of  my  office,  as  far  as 
travel  and  exposure  and  absence  from  home,  I  could 
stand  ;  but  to  send  a  man  to  a  place  when  I  knew  it 
was  an  affliction  to  him,  or  to  send  a  preacher  to  a 
place  when  I  knew  it  was  afflicting  the  place,  these 
are  the  things  which  have  tried  me."  In  those  days 
there  were  but  few  easy  places — all  were  hard ;  and  it 
was  a  more  trying  thing  for  Andrew  and  Soule  and 
Emory  and  Hedding  to  make  appointments  than  it 
had  been  for  Asbury  or  McKendree,  for  in  their  day 
the  preachers  were  generally  unmarried ;  now  they 
were  nearly  all  married.  The  Bishop's  work  was  more 
difficult  then  than  it  is  now.  There  were  no  railways, 
no  easy  modes  of  conveyance,  no  parsonages,  and  no 
Ladies'  Parsonage  Associations.  Then,  too,  the  work 
was  only  scantily  supplied  with  laborers,  and  one 
could  not  locate  without  leaving  a  vacant  place. 
Now,  if  a  man's  conscience  will  allow  him  to  do  so, 
the  place  can  at  once  be  filled. 

His  next  Conference  was  in  Mississippi,  at  Vicks- 
burg,  and  to  reach  it  he  must  leave  Nashville  in  his 
sulky  and  make  his  way  through  North  Alabama  and 
n* 


250  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  Choctaw  Nation,  through  the  deep  mud  of  the 
prairies  to  the  good  old  town  of  Vicksburg,  which  had 
taken  the  place  known  in  the  early  minutes  as  the 
Red  Lick  Settlement.  The  difficulty  of  making  this 
journey  can  only  be  appreciated  by  one  who  has  gone 
over  the  ground  from  Nashville  through  the  Lime- 
stone lands  into  the  valley  of  the  Tennessee,  and  then 
nearly  across  two  States,  through  an  almost  unbroken 
wild,  down  the  river  to  the  place  of  Conference.  The 
Bishop  gives  a  graphic  account  of  this  journey.  He 
says  : 

When  I  was  about  to  leave  Nashville  I  ascertaiaed 
that  the  horse  I  had  driven  in  the  sulky  was  lame.  I 
was,  however,  obliged  to  go,  so  we  had  to  get  on  as 
well  as  we  could  over  a  miserable  road  to  Columbia. 
The  present  turnpike  road  was  then  just  fairly  com- 
menced, and  those  who  now  so  merrily  rattle  over 
that  fine  road  have  very  slight  conceptions  of  the  diffi- 
culties which  travelers  encountered  between  the  two 
places  in  days  of  yore.  From  Columbia  we  journeyed 
to  La  Grange  by  way  of  Florence,  accompanied  by 
that  sterling  patriot,  honest  man,  and  faithful  Christian 
minister.  Rev.  James  McFerrin,  father  of  the  pres- 
ent editor  of  the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate  [1853]. 
By  the  time  we  reached  La  Grange  my  horse  was  in 
such  a  condition  that  he  could  not  proceed  ;  so  turn- 
ing over  my  traveling  companion  and  my  horse  to 
the  care  of  Brother  McFerrin,  who  resided  in  the 
country  a  few  miles  distant,  I  resolved  to  pursue  my 
journey  alone  to  Vicksburg,  the  seat  of  the  Missis- 
sippi Conference,  having  been  kindly  furnished  with 
a  horse  by  Dr.  Sledge,  on  condition  of  returning  him 
when  I  reached  the  Alabama  Conference  at  Tusca- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


251 


loosa.  This  horse,  a  snug,  fast- traveling  pony,  did 
me  admirable  service,  and  I  have  never  forgotten  the 
kindness  of  the  owner  in  lending  him  to  me  in  my 
hour  of  need. 

"  I  found  La  Grange  College,  then  in  its  infancy, 
perched  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  beautiful  for  situa- 
tion, healthy,  with  an  extensive  and  commanding 
prospect,  overlooking  the  beautiful  valley  country  be- 
low. My  present  worthy  colleague,  Bishop  Paine, 
was  then  presiding  over  its  destines  with  distinguished 
ability  and  usefulness. 

Leaving  La  Grange  I  started  for  Vicksburg  by 
way  of  the  Bear  Creek  Hills,  and  after  a  rough  and 
lonely  ride  reached  Columbus,  Miss.  I  here  found  an 
old  acquaintance,  John  Bibb,  Esq.,  whom  I  had  in- 
timately known  in  my  early  days  in  Elbert  County, 
where  we  were  both  brought  up.  I  lodged  with 
him,  and  the  next  morning  pushed  on  a  mile  or  two 
beyond  to  Tombigbee  River,  which  we  crossed.  At 
this  point  I  encountered  the  first  prairie  which  I  had 
ever  seen  ;  it  was  rather  a  small  affair  compared  with 
my  subsequent  acquaintances  of  the  same  family,  but 
at  that  time  it  seemed  to  me  quite  an  extensive  old 
field.  I  have  a  very  feeling  remembrance  of  it  in  one 
or  two  respects.  It  was  a  cool  morning  when  I 
entered  it,  and  there  had  been  a  heavy  shower  of  rain 
on  the  preceding  day.  The  wind  from  the  northwest 
had  swept  across  the  prairie  without  let  or  hindrance, 
so  that  the  temperature  was  almost  at  freezing  point, 
and  the  prairie  mud  so  deep  and  clogged  the  wheels  of 
the  sulky  so  much  that  it  was  with  great  difficulty  my 
sterling  pony  could  get  along.  Now,  to  those  of  my 
readers  who  have  traveled  a  prairie  market-road  after 


252  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

heavy  rains  all  this  may  be  intelligible  enough  ;  but 
to  those  who  attempt  to  judge  of  my  morning's  ride 
by  comparison  with  any  other  sort  of  muddy  road,  I 
would  first  say,  you  know  nothing  about  it.  After  a 
pretty  diligent  day's  ride  I  lodged  at  night  with  a 
Brother  Holiness,  a  clever  family  with  a  capital  name. 

The  next  day  I  entered  the  Indian  Territory, 
through  which  I  had  a  lonely  day's  ride,  and  just  be- 
fore nightfall  I  was  glad  to  find  quarters  at  a  little 
Indian  cabin  which  was  a  sort  of  stag-e  ground,  and 
was,  of  course,  a  rendezvous  for  drunken  stage-driv- 
ers. The  prospect  for  a  night's  rest  was  not  very  en- 
couraging, but  there  was  no  other  alternative,  so  I 
had  but  to  resolve  to  trust  to  God  and  do  the  best  I 
could.  In  due  time  I  lay  down  to  rest  on  a  bed  in 
the  corner  of  a  little  shed  room  ;  but  there  was  neither 
rest  nor  sleep.  What  with  obscene  songs,  and  the 
most  vulgar  and  profane  stories,  and  a  frequent 
visit  to  the  whiskey  barrel,  there  was  no  quiet  in  the 
house  till  far  toward  morning,  when  the  drunken 
revelers  ceased  their  noise,  and  all  was  quiet  in  the 
hut  save  the  unmusical  snorings  of  the  bacchanalians. 
I  arose  in  the  morning  unrefreshed  and  feverish,  and 
took  to  the  road  resolved  to  strive  for  a  better  place 
the  next  night.  I  was  directed  to  a  house  kept  by  a 
white  man  (a  Mr.  Northern,  I  think),  who,  it  was  said, 
kept  a  genteel  house.  I  reached  it  some  time  before 
dark,  but  resolved-  to  stop  that  I  might  secure  a  good 
night's  rest.  Toward  evening  two  or  three  genteel- 
looking  families  drove  up,  who  were  reported  to  be 
from  Virginia,  and  whose  retinue  and  appearance 
might  have  justified  a  claim  to  belong  to  the  first 
families  of  the  State ;  but  all  is  not  gold  that  shines, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


253 


as  I  soon  discovered.  When  bedtime  came  the  ladies 
and  children  were  all  put  into  one  room  and  all  the 
men  into  the  other,  so  that  we  had  a  floor  full  of  men 
lodging  in  the  same  chamber.  We  were  a  motley- 
crowd,  so  that  if  I  had  indulged  any  hope  of  rest  for 
the  night,  a  few  moments*  experience  of  the  propensi- 
ties of  my  very  voluable  companions  effectually  dis- 
sipated such  hope.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  been 
surrounded  by  such  a  set  of  disreputable  persons  in 
all  my  life.  The  drunken  revelers  of  the  previous 
night  were  scarcely  a  circumstance  to  these  well- 
dressed  and  genteel-looking  blackguards.  After  a 
restless  night  I  arose  early  and  ordered  my  horse, 
determined  to  see  if  it  was  possible  to  find  a  house  in 
all  that  country  where  a  decent  man  might  have  a  little 
peace.  A  pleasant  ride  of  some  dozen  miles  brought 
me  to  Lafloris  in  time  for  breakfast. 

*'Mr.  Lafloris  was  a  clever  man,  partly  white,  a 
man  of  property  and  respectability.  I  found  here  a 
decent,  quiet  family.  I  had  a  comfortable  breakfast 
and  then  crossed  the  river  (Pearl  River,  I  believe), 
and  urged  my  way  to  Clinton,  Miss.,  which  was  my 
next  point.  The  roads  were  good,  but  finding  the 
sun  declining  pretty  rapidly,  I  resolved  to  seek  for 
quarters  at  a  respectable-looking  house  near  the  road. 
I  drove  up  and  was  told  I  could  stay ;  a  servant 
took  charge  of  my  horse  and  I  walked  into  the  house. 
I  was  soon  at  the  bookcase,  and  found  the  Bible,  a 
]\tethodist  hymn-book,  and  a  complete  set  of  Wesley's 
works.  No  one  who  has  not  been  similarly  circum- 
stanced can  form  any  conception  of  the  pleasure  which 
this  little  incident  afforded  me.  I  felt  at  once  as 
though  at  home.    I  had  assurance  that  it  was  a  Meth- 


254 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


odist  family,  and  I  spent  a  very  pleasant  night  with 
them.  The  next  morning  I  left  for  Clinton,  which  I 
reached  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  a  pleasant 
resting-place  at  the  house  of  Judge  Nicholson,  who, 
with  his  excellent  wife,  made  me  cordially  welcome. 
The  next  day  I  rode  to  Vicksburg.  Just  before  reach- 
ing there  I  had  my  first  view  of  the  mighty  river,  but 
felt  a  sense  of  disappointment  on  first  seeing  it.  It 
seemed  not  near  so  large  as  I  had  expected,  but  on 
a  closer  inspection  my  previous  anticipations  were 
fully  realized.  I  found  the  Mississippi  Conference 
assembled,  a  small  band,  the  Southern  Conference 
having  been  cut  off  by  the  General  Conference.  We 
held  our  sessions  in  one  room  of  Judge  Lane's  house, 
and  I  believe  the  Judge  accommodated  nearly  all  the 
preachers  and  their  horses.  I  found  in  him  an  old 
friend  and  former  associate  in  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference, from  which  he  had  several  years  previously 
been  sent  as  a  missionary  to  Mississippi,  where  he  had 
labored  faithfully  and  successfully,  and  had  secured  a 
good  wife  into  the  bargain.  Winans,  Drake,  Lane, 
T.  Owens,  I  remember,  and  perhaps  there  are  a  few 
others  whose  names  I  do  not  now  recollect." 

It  was  certainly  no  pleasant  journey  he  had  made  to 
reach  Vicksburg  and  the  Mississippi  Conference.  It 
was  a  small  Conference,  only  6,380  whites  and  2,645 
colored,  and  of  the  Choctaw  Indians  who  were  yet  in 
Eastern  Mississippi,  there  were  701  in  the  Church. 
There  were  only  five  districts,  which  covered  Missis- 
sippi and  Louisiana.  William  Winans  was  there,  but 
was  superannuated.  He  lived  long  after  this  Confer- 
ence, and  to  make  one  of  the  best  speeches  of  the 
great  debate  in  1844.    He  was  a  man  of  remark- 


JmriLCs  Osgood  Andrew. 


255 


able  balance  of  mind,  clear-headed,  of  keen  insight, 
and  a  fearless  defender  of  what  he  believed  was  true 
and  just.  He  had  not  preferred  Bishop  Andrew  for 
Bishop,  and  would  have  chosen  William  Capers  if  he 
could  have  done  so.  The  saintly  Drake  was  sent  to 
lead  the  forlorn  hope  in  New  Orleans.  John  Lane, 
long  a  leader  in  Mississippi,  was  still  on  a  district ; 
and  Charles  K.  Marshall — Young  Charley  Marshall, 
they  called  him  then — full  of  fire,  and  zeal,  and  en- 
ergy, was  now  riding  his  first  circuit.  Alexander 
Talley — the  Brother  Talley  who  was  so  hurt  at  young 
Andrew's  early  marriage,  and  was  to  the  sensitive 
young  preacher  a  grievous  trial,  as  the  old  journal 
records — was  now  working  faithfully  and  successfully 
among  the  Choctaw  Indians.  John  G.  Jones,  who 
was  to  outlive  all  his  contemporaries,  had  a  district 
covering  all  of  upper  Louisiana. 

The  Conference  held  its  session,  and  the  Bishop 
came  back  again  toward  Tuscaloosa,  where  he  was  to 
organize  the  Alabama  Conference,  November,  27th. 
Leaving  Vicksburg  he  ploughed  his  way  back  by  the 
same  route  he  had  gone,  until  he  reached  Columbus, 
Miss.,  where  he  again  found  a  home  with  his  old 
Georgia  friends.  He  now  left  the  river  and  began 
to  cross  the  ridges.  He  found  the  roads  very  rough, 
and  the  country,  not  many  years  settled,  very  rude, 
but  on  the  second  day  from  Columbus  he  reached 
the  capital  of  Alabama,  Tuscaloosa.  Here  he  met 
the  preachers  who  were  to  form  the  new  Conference. 
Alabama  had  not,  at  this  time,  been  occupied  en- 
tirely by  the  whites,  but  there  were  many  settlers, 
some  of  whom  had  been  in  the  State  over  thirty  years, 
on  the  Western  rivers. 


256 


The  Life  and  Letters^/ 


Thirteen  years  before  this  young  Robert  Paine  had 
organized  the  Church  in  all  the  section  around  Tusca- 
loosa, and  in  this  town  Dr.  R.  W.  Kennon,  one  of  the 
first  missionaries  to  the  Tombigbee,  had  his  home. 
Hearn  and  Wier,  and  a  few  others,  were  endeavoring 
to  supply  the  immense  territory  with  ministerial  ser- 
vice. Of  all  the  number  (and  there  were  only  four- 
teen) who  composed  the  Conference,  I  do  not  think  a 
single  one  remains. 

There  are  now  two  large  Conferences  in  the  same 
territory.  The  Bishop  always  felt  a  kind  of  paternal 
interest  in  this  Conference.  It  had  been  set  off  from 
the  Mississippi  Conference  only  the  year  before,  and 
he  was  to  organize  it.  He  lived  to  see  the  little  one 
become  a  thousand,  to  see  two  grand  male  and  sev- 
eral female  colleges  in  the  same  territory  and  the  mis- 
sionary contributions  rising  to  $30,000  per  year,  and 
then  to  see  great  changes  which  threatened  almost  de- 
struction to  Church  and  State,  but  he  did  not  live  to 
see  the  day  of  deliverance  and  of  renewed  prosperity. 
Young  Thomas  now  rejoined  him  and  they  began  their 
journey  to  Georgia.    He  says  : 

I  was  also  favored  with  the  company  of  my 
cheerful  friend, , the  Rev.  William  MacMahon.  We 
had  a  pleasant  ride  till  we  reached  the  country  of 
the  Creek  Indians,  at  Line  Creek.  From  thence 
to  Columbus  we  traveled  entirely  through  the  In- 
dian country,  and  had  such  fare  as  might  be  ex- 
pected. Somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  what  I 
suppose  is  now  known  as  Chunnenugee  Ridge,  we 
lodged  at  a  stand  where  our  company  presented  a 
strange  mixture  of  whiskey-drinking  Indians  and 
still  more  depraved  Georgia  and  Alabama  gamblers. 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


257 


The  next  evening  we  reached  Columbus,  and  found 
a  cordial  welcome  and  a  delightful  resting-place  at 
the  house  of  my  old  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stuart. 
Our  route  to  La  Grange  was  over  a  new  country,  and, 
of  course,  the  roads  were  none  of  the  best.  We  spent 
the  Sabbath  in  the  town  of  Hamilton,  and  the  next 
day  reached  La  Grange. 

The  Conference  proceeded  with  its  business.  We 
finished  our  work  with  harmony  and  dispatch,  though 
we  had  some  exceedingly  unpleasant  work.  One  of 
the  preachers  was  charged  with  divers  immoralities, 
yet  through  his  own  ingenuity  and  the  influence  of  a 
clerical  friend  he  escaped  the  full  dole  of  punishment 
which  his  conduct  deserved.  He  was  discharged  from 
the  ministry,  but  was  permitted  to  remain  in  the 
Church  as  a  private  member.  Yet  this  same  man, 
not  very  long  after,  confessed  to  his  clerical  friend  his 
guilt  of  all  that  was  charged  against  him.  Lord,  what 
is  man  ?  and  what  views  must  some  men  have  of  God, 
when  they  can  so  solemnly  appeal  to  the  Great  Su- 
preme for  their  innocence  when  they  know  their  deep 
and  damning  guilt !  An  Annual  Conference,  in  trying 
an  accused  brother,  should,  of  course,  extend  to  him 
every  allowable  privilege  of  defense,  and  should  finally 
judge  of  the  case  as  kindly  as  possible ;  but  they 
should  never  forget  that  stern  and  impartial  justice 
has  higher  claims  upon  them  than  mere  human  sym- 
pathy— the  honor  and  purity  of  God,  the  Church,  have 
equal  or  paramount  claims." 

The  Bishop  thus  came  to  his  own  Conference"  to 
preside.  The  dearest  friends  of  his  youth  were  here — 
Lovick  Pierce,  who  only  twenty  years  before  carried 
up  his  application  for  admission;  Stephen  Olin,  who 


258 


TJie  Life  a7id  Letters  of 


ten  years  before  had  entered  his  home  in  Charleston 
and  walked  into  his  heart ;  George  Pierce,  whom 
he  had  urged  into  the  good  work  which  he  was 
doing  as  few  men  had  ever  done  it  before ;  William 
Arnold,  William  J.  Parks,  Andrew  Hammill,  John 
Howard,  and  many  others  very  dear  to  him.  Perhaps 
no  Bishop  likes  to  preside  over  a  Conference  of  which 
he  has  long  been  a  member,  and  the  Georgia  work 
presented  then  unusual  difficulties.  When  the  best 
men  were  needed  most  the  work  was  hardest;  but  he 
made  the  appointments — made  them  well.  He  mag- 
nified the  office  of  Presiding  Elder ;  had  his  exam- 
ple always  been  followed.  North  and  South,  there 
would  be  less  disposition  now  to  regard  the  office 
with  disfavor,  and  he  placed  the  best  men  in  this 
position.  Georgia  never  had  a  better  corps  of 
diocesans  than  she  did  after  this  Conference  in  La 
Grange.  William  Arnold,  Lovick  Pierce,  John  How- 
ard, Ignatius  A.  Few,  John  W.  Talley,  and  Andrew 
Hammill  were  all  men  of  remarkable  parts. 

The  sad  trial  of  which  he  speaks  it  is  well  enough 
to  consider.  The  man  had  been  a  most  popular,  and 
apparently  a  most  useful  man  ;  the  charges  against 
him  were  of  fearful  enormity,  and  he  went  before  a 
magistrate  and  swore  them  false.  William  J.  Parks 
was  one  of  the  investigating  committee.  When  the 
case  was  reported  for  trial,  the  preacher  went  to 
Parks,  tears  in  his  eyes  and  a  tremor  in  his  voice. 

Brother  Parks,  we  have  worked  together,  and 
prayed  together,  and  rejoiced  together  ;  you  ought  to 
know  me  ;  do  you  think  I  would  swear  to  a  lie  ?  " 
Fixing  his  keen  black  eyes  upon  him,  he  said  :  Bro- 
ther, if  you  would  do  what  you  are  charged  with  do- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


259 


ing  here,  I  think  you  would  ;  and  I  believe  you  did 
it."  He  was  only  suspended,  but  a  guilty  conscience 
would  not  let  him  rest  ;  he  confessed  his  sins,  left 
Georgia,  and,  I  have  heard,  died  penitent  in  the  far 
West. 

"  As  the  South  Carolina  Conference  was  to  be  held 
in  Lincolnton,  N.  C,  and  Augusta  was  directly  on  my 
way  thither,  I  hastened  from  La  Grange  to  see  again 
the  loved  ones  at  home.  I  found  all  still  living,  though 
the  youngest  child,  my  sweet  little  Kate,  was  seriously 
suffering  from  some  disease  of  the  lungs,  which  a  few 
months  subsequently  carried  her  to  the  grave.  After 
spending  some  days  at  home  I  started  for  Lincolnton, 
via  Columbia,  S.  C.  At  this  point,  in  company  with 
several  preachers  of  the  Conference,  I  took  the  stage  for 
Lincolnton  by  the  route  of  Chesterville  and  Yorkville. 
Now,  patient  readers,  if  you  have  ever  traveled  over 
this  road  after  much  rain,  and  will  just  remember  that 
it  was  now  the  latter  part  of  winter,  that  the  clouds 
had  for  some  time  previously  been  paying  all  arrear- 
ages to  the  earth,  and  that  the  heavily  loaded  cotton 
wagons  had  done  their  full  share  toward  the  im- 
provement of  the  traveling,  you  may  form  some 
notion  of  the  comfort  of  our  ride.  Suffice  it  to  say 
we  fairly  broke  down  at  last  not  far  from  Yorkville, 
and  the  driver  had  to  leave  part  of  the  coach  behind, 
while  the  mails,  the  Bishop,  and  possibly  another 
passenger,  rode  into  town  quite  in  style.  Fortunately 
it  was  some  time  in  the  night  when  I  made  my  first 
entry  into  Yorkville.  We  spent  the  Sabbath  here  and 
left  on  Monday  for  Lincolnton,  which  we  reached  in 
due  time.  The  village  gf  Lincolnton  is  romantically 
situated,  in  view  of  numerous  mountain  peaks,  and  the 


26o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


population  seem  to  be  industrious  people.  I  remem- 
ber particularly  that  they  were  not  late  sleepers  at  the 
house  where  I  lodged,  and  I  think  it  was  so  generally. 
We  usually  had  prayers  and  breakfast  over  before 
sunrise,  so  that  he  who  loved  his  morning  nap  would 
have  run  a  great  risk  of  missing  his  breakfast.  This 
was  no  trial  to  me,  as  it  brought  me  back  to  the  cus- 
toms of  my  good  old  father,  who  had  taught  me  to 
rise  before  day  ;  though  to  some  persons  I  wot  of  it 
would  have  been  rather  a  discomfort. 

"The  Conference  conducted  its  business  as  has  gen- 
erally been  its  wont,  harmoniously  and  with  dispatch, 
and  so  this  closed  my  first  round  of  Conferences." 

The  South  Carolina  Conference  was  like  his  own  to 
him.  In  the  cabinet  were  his  old  colleagues,  Henry 
Bass,  his  first  Presiding  Elder ;  W.  M.  Kennedy, 
Nicolas  Talley,  who  had  entered  the  Conference  just 
before  him;  William  Capers,  who  was  stationed  in 
Charleston  ;  and  among  the  young  men  were  William 
Wightman,  his  Charleston  boy;  Whiteford  Smith  in 
his  first  year  ;  H.  A.  C.  Walker,  who  received  his  first 
appointment  from  his  hands.  Some  of  the  old  preach- 
ers who  were  in  the  Conference  when  he  entered  it 
were  here  to  receive  appointments  from  him.  The 
embarrassment  of  his  position  and  the  difficulty  of 
making  the  appointments  were  very  great.  The  South 
Carolina  was  one  of  the  largest  Conferences  in  the 
connection.  There  were  24,773  white  and  22,326 
colored  members  in  its  boundary,  and,  while  the 
Georgia  and  Florida  territory  was  no  longer  to  be 
provided  for,  there  was  a  very  extensive  field  for  it  to 
supply  with  laborers.  He,  however,  finished  his  work 
to  general  satisfaction,  and  returned  to  his  home  in 


Jajnes  Osgood  Andrew.  261 

Augusta.  Andrew  belonged  to  the  third  generation 
of  American  Bishops.  Asbury  began  his  work  at  a 
time  when  he  knew  not  only  every  field  of  labor,  but 
every  separate  church  in  the  connection,  and  was  able 
to  visit  very  many  of  these  churches  every  year.  He 
was  unmarried,  and  literally  lived  in  his  saddle.  Mc- 
Kendree  found  the  work  much  more  extensive,  and 
introduced  the  habit  of  calling  the  Presiding  Elders 
into  consultation  and  conducting  Conferences  with 
more  system  and  with  a  stricter  regard  to  form. 

When  Bishop  Andrew  was  elected  a  change  was 
passing  over  the  whole  method  of  conducting  Con- 
ference affairs.  Colleges  were  being  established  ;  Sun- 
day-schools were  receiving  special  attention  ;  mission- 
ary matters  were  claiming  a  more  important  place. 
The  Conference  at  first  was  simply  an  association  of 
evangelists  ;  it  was  now  becoming  a  convention  of 
pastors.  The  bodies  were  getting  to  be  very  large, 
and  men  of  advanced  intellectual  culture  were  more 
numerous.  The  old  Methodist  uniform  was  still  gen- 
erally adhered  to,  only  a  few  venturing  to  brave  the 
censure  of  the  fathers  by  wearing  clothing  of  more 
modern  cut.  The  preachers  were  all  clean  shaven, 
and  even  up  to  the  time  when  Marvin  was  ordained 
a  Bishop  the  Bishops  were  without  long  beards. 

The  Conferences  convened  then,  as  now,  on  a 
Wednesday  morning.  A  somewhat  lengthy  address 
by  the  Bishop  followed  the  opening  religious  exer- 
cises. The  examination  of  character  was  the  one  im- 
portant work.  Is  there  anything  against  him?" 
meant  very  much  more  than  Has  he  been  guilty  of 
anything  in  any  degree  immoral  ?  "  The  doors  were 
closed  when  the  examination  began,  and  the  brother's 


262  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

conduct  was  most  rigidly  canvassed.  If  there  was 
any  charge  against  him  requiring  explanation,  he  was 
permitted  to  remain  in  the  room ;  otherwise  he  re- 
tired. The  Elder  generally  did  his  best  to  make  the 
case  out  a  good  one,  but  Brother  Myers  or  Brother 
Turner  was  on  the  watch-tower.  "  Did  he  rise  early? 
Was  he  prudent  ?  Did  he  shave  on  Sunday  ?  Did 
he  execute  the  Discipline  ?  Was  he  light  or  trifling  ?  " 
If  there  were  any  rumors  floating  around  they  were 
brought  out  now.  It  took  a  good  while  to  go  through 
a  Conference  with  this  careful  scrutiny.  It  may  have 
had,  and  it  did  have,  its  defects,  this  old  Wesleyan 
plan  of  examining  character — gone  now,  with  the  white 
hat  and  the  straight-breasted  coat  of  the  days  of 
yore — but  it  had  its  blessings.  Many  a  flaw  of  char- 
acter was  discovered,  many  a  little  defect  amended 
which  now  goes  with  a  m^n  to  his  grave. 

The  afternoons  were  precious  seasons.  The  Bishop 
and  the  Elders,  and  a  committee  or  two,  were  en- 
gaged ;  the  rest  of  the  Conference  was  free  ;  and 
there  was  preaching  every  afternoon  in  those  times — 
and  such  preaching !  The  Conference  session  went 
generally  through  seven  days,  and  closed  with  the 
reading  of  the  appointments. 

The  Bishop  says  :  **  I  returned  home  to  aid  my  wife 
in  nursing  our  sick  child  ;  we  passed  through  a  sea- 
son of  painful  anxiety.  Our  sweet  little  Kate  contin- 
ued to  droop,  and  we  saw  her  by  slow  but  certain 
steps  descending  to  the  grave.  We  finally  resolved, 
in  the  faint  hope  that  traveling  might  be  of  service 
to  her,  to  take  her  to  Charleston,  but  at  the  close 
of  the  first  day's  journey  we  found  she  was  sinking 
so  rapidly  that  we  retraced  our  steps  the  next  morn- 


James  Osgood  Audrezu. 


263 


ing'  in  order  that  our  precious  lamb  might  breathe 
her  last  at  home,  which  she  did  the  day  subsequent  to 
our  return.  The  intervening  night  was  to  me  one  of 
great  anxiety,  as  I  sat  beside  the  couch  of  my  child 
gazing  on  her  wasted  features  and  listening  to  her 
dying  moans  ;  but  the  final  moment  came  at  last,  and 
our  darling  Kate  ceased  to  be  of  earth  and  became 
an  angel  with  God.  Oh,  how  sweetly  sounded  in  my 
ears  the  words  of  the  good  Shepherd,  *  Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me  and  forbid  them  not,  for 
of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,'  The  next  day 
we  wended  our  way  sadly  to  the  graveyard  and  laid 
the  remains  of  our  sweet  little  sufferer  in  the  tomb,  in 
joyful  hope  of  a  glorious  resurrection.  But  as  I  stood 
by  that  grave  and  gazed  on  the  descending  coffin,  my 
soul  was  assailed  with  the  fiercest  doubts  which  I  re- 
collect to  have  encountered  in  the  course  of  my  expe- 
rience. While  I  was  endeavoring  to  direct  my  hopes 
to  a  future  reunion  with  my  loved  ones  who  had  passed 
the  flood  before  me,  the  tempter  suggested,  *  All 
this  revelation  on  which  you  are  resting  your  faith 
and  hope  is  a  fallacious  dream  ;  Christianity  is  a  fable  ; 
your  buried  friends  are  extinguished  ;  life  is  but  a 
dream,  and  death  an  eternal  sleep  from  which  there  is 
no  awakening.'  For  a  few  hours  I  grappled  with  fearful 
doubts,  but,  blessed  be  God,  I  triumphed.  I  brought 
infidelity  to  a  close  and  searching  catechism.  What 
had  it  ever  done  for  the  world  ?  What  did  it  now  prof- 
fer to  do  for  me  ?  It  charged  me  with  folly  in  resting 
my  faith  and  hope  in  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  !  Did  it  offer 
me  any  other  ground  of  hope  or  source  of  comfort  ? 

I  had  now  buried  three  lovely  children,  besides 
many  beloved  friends  ;  what  had  skepticism  to  say 


264 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


in  reference  to  them  ?  Had  it  any  hope  to  substitute 
for  the  one  of  which  it  would  rob  me  ?  It  whispered 
of  annihilation  ;  and  was  there  a  single  gleam  of  com- 
fort in  that  ?  Ah,  no  !  Or  perhaps  it  whispered  of 
the  possibility  of  all  being  right  in  futurity,  provided 
there  be  any  futurity.  And  this  was  all  the  tempter 
had  to  offer  me  in  exchange  for  the  glorious  certain- 
ties and  noonday  revelations  of  the  Christian  future 
flowing  from  the  death  and  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion of  our  glorious  Redeemer  and  Mediator !  The 
gospel  of  the  unbeliever  is  all  darkness  and  uncer- 
tainty. It  has  only  skill  to  destroy  and  pull  down, 
and  none  to  build  up.  It  enkindles  no  cheering  light 
on  life's  pathway,  exciting  to  purity  and  showing  the 
way  to  its  attainment,  for  it  has  no  authority  to  give 
precept  or  promise  ;  and  when  earth's  weary  travelers 
come  to  the  shadows  and  darkness  of  life's  close,  it 
but  gathers  a  deeper  darkness  about  their  pathway. 
No  single  star  of  hope  twinkles  in  the  firmament  of 
the  future. 

"  How  precious  in  that  hour  are  the  utterances  of 
Christian  revelation  !  *  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again,' 
said  the  blessed  Jesus  to  the  weeping  and  bereaved 
sisters ;  and  the  triumphant  language  of  St.  Paul  is, 
*  If  we  believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so 
them  which  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him. 
Thanks  be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  I  am  in  a  strait  between  the 
two,  having  a  desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ, 
which  is  far  better.  There  is  more  true,  pure,  and 
heart  philosophy  in  the  above  quotations  than  in  all 
the  volumes  to  which  infidel  philosophy  has  ever  given 
birth  since  the  world  began. 


jfaffies  Osgood  Andrew.  265 


"  And  this  is  the  peculiar  glory  of  the  Gospel  of  the 
grace  of  God.  It  addresses  itself  to  man  as  he  is,  not 
as  philosophers  imagine  he  ought  to  be  ;  it  reveals  to 
him  what  he  is,  what  he  ought  to  be  ;  defines  to  his 
apprehension  the  whole  process  of  the  needed  reno- 
vation ;  breathes  upon  him  an  influence  divine  to  aid 
him  in  the  attainment  of  the  essential  and  glorious 
change  required  ;  starts  him  in  the  way  of  Hfe,  and 
bids  him  fix  his  eyes  on  heaven — eternal  and  glorious 
heaven — as  his  ultimate  resting-place.  The  Gospel 
deals  with  him  as  man — erring  and  sinful,  it  may  be, 
but  still  immortal.  It  destroys  none  of  his  essential 
attributes,  but  is  eminently  a  social  and  domestic  reli- 
gion. It  hallows  and  strengthens  the  bonds  of  social 
intercourse,  and  consecrates  and  sanctifies  the  joys  of 
the  domestic  circle.  Does  the  Christian  husband  or 
father  love  his  wife  and  children  with  an  affection  less 
than  that  which  is  cherished  in  similar  relations  by 
the  ungodly  man  ?  Yea,  rather  is  not  the  current  of 
these  affections  deeper  and  stronger  in  the  Christian, 
while  he  contemplates  these  loved  ones  as  heirs,  to- 
gether with  himself,  of  the  eternal  inheritance  which 
God  hath  provided  for  the  good  in  His  higher  and 
better  kingdom  above  ? 

"  Christianity  loves  the  home  fireside  and  cheers  its 
households  with  the  prospect  of  final  triumph  over 
death  and  the  grave  ;  and  as  the  father  and  mother 
look  on  the  smiling  little  ones  around  them,  while 
they  feel  that  death  shall  dissolve  the  earthly  ties 
which  unite  them  to  those  loved  ones,  a  voice  from 
the  most  excellent  glory  bids  their  faith  and  hope 
look  up  to  an  eternal  reunion  in  their  Father's  house 
above.  Am  I  to  be  told  that  all  these  hopes  are  vain  ? 


266 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


that  in  another  state  all  these  hallowed  affections 
^  which  serve  to  cheer  life's  gloomy  pathway  and  ren- 
der an  earthly  sojourn  tolerable  are  to  be  annihi- 
lated ?  that  if  perchance  I  and  the  children  which  God 
gave  me  on  earth  should  reach  the  better  land,  we 
shall  wander  through  eternity  strangers  to  each  other, 
with  no  sign  of  recognition  to  recall  former  scenes  ? 
Those  may  receive  this  doctrine  who  will ;  for  my  own 
part,  I  do  not  intend  to  believe  a  word  of  it.  Now,  I 
love  to  think  of  this  glorious  reunion  with  loved  ones 
in  the  presence  and  home  of  my  gracious  and  glorious 
Lord  and  Master,  the  victor  over  death  and  the  grave. 
I  love  sometimes  to  talk  of  it  and  even  preach  about 
it,  notwithstanding  it  is  regarded  a  sin  against  the 
canons  of  good  taste  by  some  fastidious  critics  now- 
adays, who  will  very  soon  come  to  be  scandalized  at 
hearing  much  stress  laid  on  singing  and  shouting  the 
praises  of  God  in  heaven." 

Another  sweet  girl  has  gone  to  heaven.  How 
grandly  the  father  writes  of  that  conflict  at  her  grave. 
The  combat  with  the  demon  of  doubt  comes  to  all, 
and  will  continue  to  come  while  the  Prince  of  Dark- 
ness is  unchained  ;  but,  blessed  be  God,  the  hour  of 
victory  comes  too.  This  battle  once  won  was,  as  far 
as  he  was  concerned,  won  for  all  time.  From  this 
hour  that  demon  came  no  more  to  him.  Heaven  and 
immortality  were  to  him  no  longer  questions.  He 
did  not  believe  in  them — he  saw  them.  The  perfect 
clearness  of  his  spiritual  vision  is  one  of  the  wonders 
of  his  life.  There  was  but  one  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death  to  him,  and  he  had  passed  safely  through  it. 
He  wrote  to  his  mother  in  March : 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


267 


To  Mrs.  MARY  O.  ANDREW. 

"  Augusta,  March  12,  1833. 

"  My  Beloved  Mother  : 

"  I  had  hoped  before  this  time  to  have  seen  you, 
but  have  been  hindered,  and  now  I  doubt  whether  I 
shall  visit  the  up  country  before  May  or  June.  On 
next  Monday  I  expect,  God  willing,  to  leave  this 
place  for  the  low  country  on  a  tour  of  professional 
duty  which  will  probably  extend  over  several  weeks. 
Amelia  wishes  to  see  her  sister,  and  I  think  I  shall 
take  her  and  some  of  the  girls  with  me. 

"  You  have  perhaps  heard  before  this  of  our  afflic- 
tive loss.  Our  dear  little  Catharine,  after  suffering 
beyond  description,  was  taken  from  us  on  the  last  day 
of  February.  The  stroke  was  a  bitter  one,  and  I  found 
it  a  severe  struggle  to  be  resigned.  All  is  for  the  best, 
I  know.  God  cannot  err  /  Oh,  that  we  may  so  live 
as  to  gain  an  entrance  at  last  into  that  heaven  to 
which  God  has  taken  her. 

"The  rest  of  the  family  are  in  health  at  present. 
My  own  health  is  pretty  good. 

I  saw  none  of  our  relations  on  my  Mississippi  trip, 
though  I  heard  from  them.    They  were  well. 

"  I  trust,  my  dear  mother,  that  your  own  health  is 
good,  and  that  my  dear  sister  Judy  is  in  better  health. 
God  bless  her  and  cause  His  face  to  shine  upon  her. 

**  Hitherto  God  has  sustained  me  in  my  arduous 
duties,  and  although  I  have  not  discharged  them  to 
my  own  satisfaction,  yet  I  have  honestly  endeavored 
to  do  the  best  I  could,  and  God,  I  trust,  has  accepted 
the  imperfect  service. 

"Tell  William  I  hope  to  see  his  crop  in  fine  order 
when  I  come  up.    If  you  stand  in  need  of  anything 


268 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


which  it  is  in  my  power  to  supply,  and  you  have  an 
opportunity  of  sending  for  it,  please  let  me  know. 

''Amelia  and  the  little  girls  unite  in  kind  remem- 
brances to  yourself  and  all  the  family.  I  remain,  my 
dear  mother, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

He  had  made  a  long  journey,  and  his  next  visitation 
to  the  Conferences  did  not  begin  until  January.  He 
was  getting  ready  now  to  go  to  the  Territory  of  Flor- 
ida, and  before  he  began  his  journey  he  wrote  to  his 
dear  old  mother : 

"Augusta,  September  9,  1833. 

*'  My  Dear  Mother  : 

*'  I  expect  you  are  all  willing  to  hear  from  me  by  this 
time  ;  and  as  I  shall  leave  home  to-morrow,  God  wil- 
ling, on  a  tour  of  about  three  weeks,  I  must  write  you 
to-day  or  wait  some  time  longer.  Through  Divine 
mercy  we  are  all  in  good  health,  although  the  weather 
is  extremely  hot.  Our  little  girl  is  just  about  the 
finest  child  in  the  State — handsome,  fat,  and  good 
natured  quite  beyond  what  is  common.  She  has 
never  cried  as  much  in  all  her  life  as  some  children 
do  in  half  an  hour.  We  dedicated  her  to  God  in 
baptism  yesterday.  Her  name  is  Mary  Catharine  ; 
so  you  see  we  have  remembered  both  grandmothers. 
I  hope  you  are  all  well  and  doing  well  for  time  and 
eternity.  According  to  your  request  I  got  Asbury 
Hull  to  draw  up  a  deed  of  trust,  which  he  promised  to 
send  to  you  together  with  a  letter  of  instructions  as 
to  what  you  had  best  do.    I  trust  you  have  received 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


269 


it,  and  that  everything  has  been  done  so  that  your 
mind  is  quite  at  ease  on  that  point. 

"  I  had  hoped  to  visit  you  again  in  the  course  of  the 
fall,  but  doubt  whether  it  will  be  in  my  power  before 
Christmas.  On  October  14th  I  intend  to  leave  horne 
for  a  trip  to  Florida,  which  will  keep  me  busily  en- 
gaged until  about  the  5th  or  6th  of  December.  If, 
however,  I  should  not  be  able  to  come  sooner,  I 
will  try  and  spend  a  few  days  with  you  before  the 
Georgia  Conference.  But  the  time  is  short — oh,  let 
us  look  forward  to  that  day  when  friends  shall  meet 
to  part  no  more.  ...  I  expect,  in  visiting  Florida, 
to  see  my  sister,  Mrs.  Roberts,  and  spend  a  day  with 
her.  Tell  Harbert  that  some  time  or  other,  while  I 
am  in  the  Territory,  I  will  try  to  snatch  a  spare  hour 
and  give  him  a  brief  notice  of  the  wonderments  I  see 
in  the  land  of  the  orange  and  pine.  Before  I  start  to 
Florida  I  will  give  instructions  about  your  next  year's 
groceries — say  your  sugar,  coffee,  and  salt — so  that, 
by  any  wagon  coming  down  after  the  middle  of  Octo- 
ber, you  can  send,  and  they  can  obtain  the  articles 
by  calling  on  Jesse  Kent,  a  little  above  the  lower 
market.  I  will  leave  instructions  with  Brother  Kent 
so  that  he  will  deliver  the  things  upon  receiving  your 
order.  Should  you  not  have  pork  enough,  I  must 
make  arrangements,  when  I  come  up,  for  you  to  pro- 
cure more,  either  pork  or  bacon.  Amelia  and  the  Httle 
girls  unite  in  affectionate  remembrance  to  you." 

This  is  the  letter.  There  is  nothing  in  it  which  the 
v/orld  will  perhaps  value  ;  it  is  only  the  picture  of  a 
thoughtful,  affectionate  son,  who,  although  he  is  a 
Bishop  of  a  great  Church,  does  not  forget  the  wants 
of  the  dear  old  mother  in  the  humble  farm-house  in 


2/0  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

Clarke.  Dear  old  Jesse  Kent  will  load  the  wagon 
with  the  widow  Andrew's  groceries,  and  her  son 
James  will  find  some  way  out  of  his  small  salary  to 
pay  the  bill,  and  will  also  find  time  to  write  a  line  to 
Harbert— poor,  crippled,  gifted  Harbert,  the  baby 
boy  whom  he  left  home  twenty  years  ago — to  tell 
him  about  the  wonderments  of  Florida. 

These  glimpses  of  domestic  life  are  very  sweet  to 
me.  If  my  reader  does  not  like  them,  and  wants 
only  the  story  of  the  ecclesiastic  and  not  the  picture 
of  the  man,  he  had  best  go  no  further. 

I  am  to  show  James  O.  Andrew,  not  in  his  clerical 
robes,  but  as  he  was  when  they  were  laid  aside — to 
show  his  heart.  Great  brained  as  he  was,  hero  as  he 
was  in  every  fibre  of  his  soul,  his  heart  was  the 
largest  part  of  him,  and  it  finds  another  sweet  utter- 
ance in  this  letter  to  his  daughter  : 

"  Augusta,  29,  1833. 

My  Daughter  : 

"  Your  mother  received  your  last  letter  a  few  days 
since,  and  we  were  all  extremely  glad  to  hear  of  your 
health  and  well-being.  Your  letters,  my  dear  child, 
are  always  looked  for  by  us  with  a  good  deal  of 
solicitude,  as  you  will  probably  never  know  how 
much  anxiety  we  feel  on  your  account  till  you  your- 
self become  a  parent.  These  anxieties  arise  from  our 
undying  concern  for  your  good  conduct  here  and 
your  eternal  well-being  hereafter.  You  are  thrown 
upon  the  billows  of  a  tempestuous  and  deceitful  world, 
whose  maxims,  customs,  and  spirit  are  all  calculated 
to  deceive  you  by  promising  to  your  unpracticed  eye 
and  heart  much  happiness,  when  it  shall  eventually 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


271 


yield  nothing  but  disappointment,  bitterness,  and 
death.  Will  my  daughter  remember  her  God  and 
Saviour  while  she  is  seeking  literary  improvement  ? 
or  will  she  be  gay,  thoughtless,  and  prayerless,  as 
many  of  her  young  companions  are  ?  Oh,  how  deeply 
do  these  questions  affect  our  hearts  when  we  think  of 
you  ;  yet  we  have  confidence  in  you,  my  precious 
child.    Disappoint  us  not. 

Whatever  company  or  conversation  unfits  you  for 
religious  duties,  I  beg  you  for  a  father's  love  to  avoid 
them. 

Does  my  Elizabeth  diligently  attend  to  private 
prayer,  to  daily  and  prayerful  reading  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  ?  Oh,  my  daughter,  do  you  earnestly  seek 
the  enjoyment  of  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding  ?  I  fear  you  do  not  seek  it  as  you 
ought.  I  have  witnessed  with  deep  regret  that  you 
have  never  yet  communicated  at  the  holy  sacrament. 
Why  is  this,  my  love  ?  Are  you  unwilling  to  take 
this  solemn,  decisive  step,  and  put  the  last  public 
seal  upon  your  faith  in  Him  without  the  merit  of 
whose  blood  you  must  be  an  eternal  offcast  from  God 
and  hope,  because  it  would  seem  *to  raise  a  greater 
barrier  between  you  and  the  world  ?  Consider,  my 
daughter,  what  excuse  you  can  make  to  God  for  the 
neglect  of  this  most  precious  Gospel  ordinance. 

"  I  know  my  daughter  will  appreciate  her  father's 
motive  in  all  that  has  been  written  above,  and  will 
equally  regard  the  advice  given.  Our  ever-dear  Eliza- 
beth is  never  forgotten  in  our  prayers.  Farewell,  my 
child.  May  God  greatly  bless  you  is  the  prayer  of 
Your  affectionate  father, 

J.  O.  Andrew." 


272 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


He  was  now  at  camp-meetings,  never  doing  better 
nor  more  laborious  work,  until  October  of  the  year 
when  he  made  his  first  visit  to  Florida.  He  was  in 
the  sulky,  and  Jacob,  the  colored  boy,  on  horseback. 
Although  his  journeyings  had  been  extensive,  he  had 
not  as  yet  gone  so  near  the  tropics  as  the  beautiful 
peninsula  brought  him.  It  was  over  ten  years  after 
this  that  Florida  became  a  State.  The  Church  came 
into  it  even  before  the  American  flag  floated  over  it. 
Jesse  Lee,  in  1799,  passed  over  the  line  between  the 
States  and  Florida,  and  prayed  that  God  would  send 
the  Gospel  into  that  region,  and  now  there  was  quite 
a  band  of  workers  there.  Although  St.  Augustine 
is  the  oldest  city  in  America,  a  few  miles  from  it  there 
was  then  an  unbroken  wild.  John  W.  Talley  had 
the  whole  of  Florida  east  of  the  Chattahoochee  and  a 
considerable  slice  of  Georgia  in  his  district,  and  a 
body  of  young  Georgians  were  under  his  direction. 
There  were  eight  unordained  men  in  the  nine  charges. 

The  reminiscences  say  :  "  As  my  next  tour  of  Con- 
ferences did  not  begin  until  early  in  the  following 
year,  I  spent  my  time  at  home  and  in  attending  Con- 
ference and  other  meetings  in  various  portions  of  the 
surrounding  country.  In  July  God  gave  us  another 
daughter  to  supply  the  place  of  our  dear  little  Kate. 
We  received  her  as  a  gift  from  God.  My  dear  Mary 
still  lives,'  and  is,  I  trust,  endeavoring  to  seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God.  Oh,  that  she  may  at  last  reach  the 
heavenly  rest. 

*'As  I  had  some  time  to  remain  at  home  and 
wished  to  be  profitably  employed,  I  concluded  to 


*  She  died  of  consumption,  in  Florida,  in  1857. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


273 


spend  a  part  of  the  fall  and  winter  in  visiting  Florida, 
which  was  then  just  beginning  to  be  settled  by  our 
people.  Accordingly,  in  October  I  left  home,  in  com- 
pany with  Jacob,  a  little  negro  boy  who  lived  with  me, 
and  whose  health  had  been  for  some  time  poor.  He 
w^as  thought  to  be  consumptive,  and  as  I  hoped  that 
a  horseback  ride  through  that  mild  climate  might  be  of 
service  to  his  health,  I  purchased  a  horse,  rigged  him 
out,  and  took  him  along  with  me.  We  went  first  to 
Savannah  ;  thus  far  all  was  familiar,  but  from  that 
point  the  route  was  new  to  me.  From  Savannah  we 
pushed  for  St.  Mary's,  where  Brother  Talley,  Presid- 
ing Elder  of  the  district  including  East  Florida,  was 
to  meet  me.  Our  first  day's  ride  brought  us  to  Rice- 
borough,  rather  a  dilapidated  looking  place,  and 
with  unpromising  surroundings  for  health.  A  few 
miles  before  reaching  this  place  we  passed  the  old 
Midway  church,  and  although  the  sun  was  low  and  I 
had  several  miles  ahead  of  me,  yet  I  felt  that  I  must 
not  pass  that  hallowed  spot  without  lingering  a  few 
moments.  I  accordingly  dismounted  and  wandered 
among  the  tombstones  which  stood  there  giving  brief 
but  expressive  record  of  the  sleeping  dust  beneath. 
In  this  neighborhood  my  honored  father  had  been 
reared  ;  in  this  house  he  had  been  accustomed,  from 
his  boyhood,  to  attend  the  worship  of  God  ;  beneath 
the  sod  over  which  I  walked  slept  the  dust  of  many 
of  those  who  were  my  kindred  according  to  the  flesh; 
and  near  me  the  cold,  silent  marble  told  of  one  who, 
in  the  days  of  my  father's  youth,  was  the  exemplary 
pastor  of  the  flpck  of  God  worshipping  here,  and 
part  of  whose  name  I  bore  (Rev.  Mr.  Osgood).  It 
was  an  impressive  scene  ;  everything  around  me  led 

12* 


274 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  serious  thought — the  place,  the  associations,  and 
the  hour,  for  the  sun  was  just  gilding  the  tree-tops 
with  his  last  beams — all  conspired  to  render  it  one  of 
those  scenes  calculated  to  improve  the  heart,  and  I 
would  gladly  have  lingered  there  for  hours.  But 
the  shadows  of  evening  were  gathering  around  me, 
and  I  had  to  leave  this  spot,  rendered  dear  to  me  by  so 
many  associations,  resolving  that  at  some  future — not 
very  far  distant — day  I  would  revisit  it  and  indulge 
myself  with  a  longer  visit.  But  it  has  been  a  long 
time  since,  and  I  have  not  yet  been  permitted  to  look 
on  the  venerable  Midway  church. 

"  The  following  day  a  dreary  ride  through  extensive 
pine  flats  led  us,  late  in  the  afternoon,  across  the  Al- 
tamaha  River  at  Fort  Barrington,  so  called,  though  I 
saw  no  vestige  of  anything  like  a  fort  there  at  the 
time  of  crossing.  Some  six  or  eight  miles  beyond 
we  found  lodgings  at  the  house  of  one  who  seemed  ut- 
terly indisposed  to  prayers.  The  next  day  a  dreary 
ride,  most  of  the  way  over  uninhabited  and  poor- 
looking  pine  country,  brought  us  toward  evening  to 
St.  Mary's,  the  poorest  looking  spot  which  I  had  yet 
encountered,  and  certainly,  if  poverty  of  soil  be  any 
sign  of  health,  St.  Mary's  must  be  one  of  the  healthi- 
est spots  in  the  land — sure.  We  spent  the  Sabbath 
here.  I  found  a  kindly  welcome  at  the  house  of  Sis- 
ter Bessent,  widow  of  an  excellent  local  preacher  who 
had  some  time  previously  gone  to  his  rest.  On  Mon- 
day morning,  in  company  with  Brother  Talley  who 
joined  us  at  this  point,  we  started  for  St.  Augustine, 
where  I  intended  to  spend  the  next  Sabbath.  We 
crossed  the  St.  Mary's  River  several  miles  above 
town,  and  traveled  on  what  is  called  King's  road,  in 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


275 


honor,  I  suppose,  of  his  Catholic  Majesty  of  Spain, 
by  whose  order  it  was  prepared  while  Florida  was  yet 
a  province  of  his  kingdom.  It  was  a  pretty  good 
road,  and  for  once  in  my  life  I  felt  under  some  obli- 
gation to  royalty.  We  were  cordially  greeted  at 
night  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Pyles,  whose  wife  was  a 
Methodist — the  husband  a  man  of  the  world,  clever 
and  friendly.  We  had  ocular  and  pleasant  demon- 
stration of  the  St.  John's  River  in  a  fine  dish  of  sheep- 
head  served  for  our  breakfast. 

''The  next  morning  a  few  miles  brought  us  to  the 
town  of  Jacksonville,  then  a  straggling  village.  After 
some  considerable  delay  we  crossed  the  St.  John's  late 
in  the  day  and  rode  to  the  house  of  a  Brother  Phil- 
lips, situated  a  few  miles  from  the  ferry.  As  we 
were  jogging  along  a  large  panther  sprang  across  the 
road  and  bounded  away  through  the  bushes.  It  was 
the  only  specimen  of  a  wild  panther  that  I  had  ever 
seen,  though  at  the  time  of  my  passing  through  the 
country  they  were  still  quite  numerous  in  many  local- 
ities. Our  host  resided  near  the  St.  John's,  which 
is  a  noble-looking  stream,  broad,  deep,  and  clear. 
Next  day  we  pushed  for  the  ancient  city,  which  we 
reached  after  a  dreary  ride  through  a  desolate  coun- 
try— a  poor,  white-looking  sandy  pine  country  cov- 
ered with  an  abundant  growth  of  saw  palmetto,  whose 
formidable  roots,  when  encountered  by  carriage  wheels 
out  of  the  old  beaten  track,  produced  an  impression 
on  joints  and  muscles  not  soon  to  be  forgotten. 

We  have  had  missionaries  here  for  many  years, 
and  had  collected  a  small  society.  It  was,  however, 
always  fluctuating,  depending  almost  entirely  upon 
the  transient  population,  and,  but  for  the  fact  that  St. 


2/6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Augustine  was  the  great  winter  resort  for  consumptive 
invalids,  to  whom  the  preacher  might  be  as  a  minis- 
tering angel  in  the  hour  of  sickness  and  death,  and 
the  additional  fact  that  we  had  access  to  the  blacks 
(of  whom  we  had  collected  a  tolerable  society),  the 
place  would  have  been  scarcely  worth  occupying. 

"  After  spending  a  few  days  in  the  city  we  retraced 
our  steps  as  far  as  Jacksonville,  where  we  again 
crossed  the  St.  John's,  and  directed  our  way  through 
a  wild  and  sparsely  settled  country  to  attend  a  camp- 
meeting  near  the  Suwanee  River.  On  the  way  I  made  ' 
a  brief  call  on  my  sister  Roberts,  my  father's  eldest 
daughter  by  his  first  marriage.  I  had  not  seen  her 
for  many  years,  and  time  and  trouble  had  made  some 
inroads  upon  her  looks.  I  found  the  same  affectionate 
sister  as  of  old,  and,  best  of  all,  she  was  looking  for- 
ward piously  and  hopefully  to  a  better  world,  to  which 
God  has  removed  her  within  a  year  or  two  past. 

"  We  reached  the  camp  after  the  meeting  had  com- 
menced, but  as  it  was  known  that  both  the  Presiding 
Elder  and  Bishop  were  coming,  we  met  a  considerable 
party  some  distance  from  the  camp,  who  came  to  get 
sight  of  the  Bishop  and  welcome  us  to  the  meeting. 
Among  the  foremost  I  recognized  a  familiar  face  ;  it 
was  no  other  than  my  old  friend  Charles  McLellan, 
formerly  of  Saltketcher  Circuit,  at  whose  house  I  had 
spent  many  a  pleasant  hour  in  years  long  gone  by. 
It  had  been  many  years  since  we  had  met,  yet  I  knew 
him  in  an  instant.  That  good-natured,  half-quizzical 
look  of  his  could  not  be  mistaken.  He  approached 
me  smilingly,  but  suddenly  stopping  and  fixing  an 
earnest  gaze  upon  me — 'Take  off  your  hat,'  said  he, 
*  and  let  me  see  your  head.    Oh,  yes — it  is  yours  ;  I 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


277 


know  you  now;  there  is  that  same  curly  head.' 
Our  greeting  was  a  cordial  one,  and  during  the  meet- 
ing we  had  ample  time  to  talk  over  the  days  of '  auld 
lang  syne.'  " 

And  so,  December  2,  1853,  these  charming  remi- 
niscences find  an  end.  They  had  gone  on  in  the  col- 
umns of  the  SotitJiern  Christian  Advocate  for  over  a 
year,  and  the  good  Bishop  now  laid  down  his  pen,  in- 
tending to  take  it  up  again  after  he  returned  home.  He 
never  did  resume  it  for  this  purpose.  Deep  sorrow  was 
just  ahead  of  him,  and  heavy  cares  pressed  upon  him, 
and  the  story  of  his  life,  which  he  has  so  charmingly 
told  till  now,  must  be  told  by  some  other  tongue. 

From  1834  to  1840  there  is  an  almost  entire  absence 
of  correspondence.  The  removal  from  Augusta  to 
Chestnut  Grove,  and  from  Chestnut  Grove  to  Oxford, 
and  the  events  which  followed,  will,  perhaps,  account 
for  the  loss  of  the  letters.  He  was  to  go  East  during 
the  winter  or  early  spring,  to  be  gone  for  nearly  a 
year.  As  we  see  from  his  letter  to  his  mother,  he 
met  Bishop  Emory  at  Washington  in  January,  and  re- 
turning to  Augusta  he  began,  in  February,  his  visi- 
tations. Before  his  departure  he  wrote  to  his  mother : 

"  Washington,  January  14,  1834. 

•*My  Beloved  and  Honored  Mother: 

**  I  have  long  flattered  myself  with  the  hope  of 
spending  some  days  with  you  before  I  started  on  my 
Northern  tour,  but  did  not  return  from  Florida  until 
some  time  in  December.  I  then  set  apart  the  week 
preceding  the  Conference  to  visit  you,  but  the 
weather  with  us  was  so  bad  that  I  could  not  at- 
tempt it  without  considerable  hazard.    When  I  came 


278 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  Conference  I  intended  to  have  gone  on  to  you 
during  its  sitting,  but  the  extreme  bad  .weather, 
together  with  the  fact  that  Bishop  Emory  is  a  stran- 
ger here  and  needs  my  advice  on  very  much  of  the 
unusually  important  business  which  has  to  be  done  at 
this  session,  prevents  my  consistently  leaving  until  the 
close  of  the  session.  This  will  bring  me  within  four- 
teen days  of  the  time  when  I  must  leave  home  for  an 
absence  of  almost  a  year.  Well,  my  dear  mother,  for- 
give me  if  I  say  that  I  feel  as  if  it  were  my  duty  to 
spend  this  time  with  my  wife  and  children,  from 
whom  I  am  called  to  be  almost  an  exile.  Should 
God  permit  me  to  return  home,  I  hope  next  year  to 
give  you  a  little  more  of  my  company,  and  until  then 
must  endeavor  to  pay  you  for  my  failure  to  come  by 
sending  Amelia  and  the  girls  to  spend  a  little  while 
with  you  in  the  spring.  Meanwhile  I  can  only  love 
you  and  pray  for  you,  and  feel  untold  enjoyment  in 
the  conviction  that  my  blessed  mother,  who  kissed 
me  and  taught  me  and  prayed  for  me  in  boyhood, 
still  presents  me  to  the  throne  of  grace.  Oh,  my 
mother,  how  gladly  would  I  make  your  remnant  of 
days  free  from  care  !  This  I  cannot  do  altogether, 
but  will  do  what  I  can ;  and  the  good  God  who 
loves  you  better  than  I  will  do  all  that  is  needful  for 
you.  Cast  your  care  upon  Him,  my  precious  mother. 
He  knows  your  every  grief,  and  will  either  give  you 
grace  to  bear  them  or  will  deliver  you  from  them  in 
due  time.  May  heaven's  richest  blessings  rest  upon 
your  head  and  heart  for  time  and  eternity. 

I  send  you  enclosed  $45,  which  you  can  ap- 
propriate as  your  necessities  require.  I  also  send  you 
by  Brother  O.  a  horse  which  I  have  procured  for  your 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


279 


use.  He  is  gentle  for  any  purpose  to  which  you  may 
choose  to  adapt  him.  I  was  sorry  to  hear  that  your 
Advocate  had  been  stopped  some  time  since.  I  sent 
and  paid  the  account  and  ordered  the  paper  to  be 
continued.  Tell  Harbert  when  he  writes  to  me  (which 
I  wish  him  to  do  that  the  letter  may  meet  me  at  Vir- 
ginia Conference,  in  Raleigh,  February  20th)  to  let  me 
know  whether  you  now  receive  it. 

When  I  left  home  the  family  were  all  well  except 
your  dear  little  namesake,  Mary,  who  was  a  little  un- 
well ;  teething,  I  suppose.  By  the  way,  she  is  the  best 
and  sweetest  child  I  have  ever  seen  in  any  land.  I 
long  very  much  for  you  all  to  see  her,  and  when  she 
comes  up  among  you  I  think  that  even  Uncle  Wil- 
liam, with  all  his  opposition  to  girls,  will  say  she  is 
charmingly  sweet,  and  I  am  afraid  the  girls  will  spoil 
her  altogether." 

After  his  departure  the  good  wife  wrote  thus  : 

♦'Augusta,  February  25,  1834. 

My  Dear  Mother  : 

"As  I  know  that  you  must  feel  much  anxiety  to 
hear  from  Mr.  Andrew,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us,  I 
am  sure  a  letter  from  me  at  this  time  will  not  be  un- 
acceptable. I  trust  you  are  all  in  the  enjoyment  of 
health  and  all  needed  comforts.  I  have  sympathized 
deeply  with  you  on  account  of  the  disappointment 
which  I  know  you  must  have  experienced  in  not  see- 
ing Mr.  Andrew  previous  to  his  leaving  home,  which,  in 
consequence  of  various  circumstances  with  which  I  sup- 
pose he  made  you  acquainted,  was  unavoidable.  The 
long-dreaded  trial  has  come  at  last,  and  he  is  gone. 

"I  cannot  describe  to  you  my  feelings,  my  dear 


280 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


mother,  when  I  parted  with  him.  I  do  not  know  that 
I  ever  saw  him  so  much  affected  at  leaving  home.  He 
seemed  to  feel  the  parting  with  our  dear  little  Mary 
excessively.  I  suppose  the  remembrance  of  our  little 
'  Puss'  and  the  precarious  nature  of  our  infant's  health 
weighed  heavily  on  his  mind:  I  have  resolved,  how- 
ever, at  his  earnest  request,  to  meet  him  in  New  York 
in  May.  I  shall  then  have  his  company  till  the  first  of 
July,  after  which  he  leaves  for  the  West,  while  I  shall 
probably  remain  there  until  the  fall.  I  have  concluded 
to  take  Elizabeth  and  Mary  with  me,  and  shall  take  the 
others  up  to  your  house  and  leave  them  in  your  care 
till  my  return.  I  expect  to  see  you  about  the  middle 
of  April  or  a  little  later.  If  there  are  any  things  you 
need  or  anything  in  which  I  can  oblige  you,  let  me 
know  and  I  will  attend  to  it  before  I  come. 

I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Andrew  a  day  or 
two  ago,  stating  that  his  health  was  good.  We  are 
all  pretty  well  at  this  time,  and  the  family  unite  with 
me  in  affectionate  remembrance  to  yourself  and  fam- 
ily. Do,  my  dear  mother,  think  of  and  pray  for  us, 
and  for  me  particularly,  that  I  may  have  grace  to  en- 
dure all  that  I  am  called  to  meet  in  this  life  and  that  I 
may  be  saved  eternally. 

Your  affectionate  daughter, 

Anne  A.  Andrew." 

Leaving  home  early  in  February,  he  made  his  first 
Eastern  tour.  He  met  the  Virginia  Conference  at 
Raleigh,  N.  C.  This  Conference  embraced  not  only 
all  of  Eastern  Virginia,  but  all  of  upper  North  Caro- 
lina. Of  the  nine  districts  there  were  four  of  them  in 
North  Carolina. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


281 


Doggett  was  a  young  Elder,  stationed  at  Trinity,  in 
Richmond  ;  Henry  B.  Cowles,  not  yet  ordained,  at 
Lynchburg  ;  the  eloquent  Leigh  on  a  district ;  Leroy 
M.  Lee  and  William  A.  Smith,  brothers  in  arms  for 
many  long  years,  neighbors,  one  in  Portsmouth  and 
one  in  Norfolk,  and  Edward  Wadsworth  at  Charlottes- 
ville. John  Early  was  agent  for  Randolph  Macon 
College,  and  Stephen  Olin  President.  There  were 
35,410  white  members  in  all  the  Conference. 

From  Raleigh  he  went  to  Baltimore.  The  Bishop 
was  expected  to  travel  through  the  connection,  and 
he  was  almost  as  much  an  evangelist  as  a  Superinten- 
dent. There  was  a  month  intervening  between  the 
beginning  of  the  Conferences,  but  as  Conference  ses- 
sions were  long  and  modes  of  conveyance  slow,  he 
had  not  too  much  time. 

The  Baltimore  Conference  was  the  parent  body  of 
all  this  section.  Its  boundary  reached  from  the  upper 
part  of  Pennsylvania  five  hundred  miles  southward,  and 
from  the  Chesapeake  Bay  to  the  Ohio  River.  Bishop 
Andrew  had  been  in  Baltimore  at  two  General  Con- 
ferences, and  knew  the  preachers  of  this  Conference 
probably  as  well  as  any  in  the  East.  They  were  many 
in  number  and  strong  men.  Alfred  Griffith,  who  was 
the  leader  of  the  attack  against  him  twelve  years  after- 
ward, was  a  Presiding  Elder ;  the  eloquent  Cookman, 
one  of  the  stationed  preachers  of  Baltimore  ;  the 
quaint  old  Dutchman,  Jacob  Gruber,  preaching  to  the 
negroes  at  Sharp  Street ;  Henry  Sheer,  who  stood  by 
the  South  so  firmly  in  1844,  was  on  a  district;  John 
A.  Collins  and  Samuel  G.  Roszell  were  college  agents. 
These  are  some  few  of  the  able  men  over  whom  he 
had  to  preside,  and  to  a  man  so  distrustful  as  he  was 


282 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


of  himself  the  task  was  doubly  painful.  He  evidently 
went  on  to  Philadelphia  and  New  York  after  the  ad- 
journment, for  Mrs.  Andrew  was  to  meet  him  in  New 
York  in  May ;  but  as  these  were  Bishop  Hedding's 
Conferences  he  was  relieved  of  the  burden  of  presid- 
ing. He  had  many  friends  in  Philadelphia;  indeed, 
when  he  was  elected  Bishop  they  wished  him  to  set- 
tle in  that  city,  and  offered  to  buy  him  a  house. 
Thomas  Mason,  then  book  agent  in  New  York,  was 
his  brother-in-law,  having  married  his  wife's  sister. 
We,  however,  get  only  one  glimpse  of  him,  and  that 
is  given  us  by  Charles  Taylor.  He  was  a  boy  in  the 
Duane  Street  Sunday-school,  and  at  an  anniversary 
celebration  held  during  the  session  of  Conference  he 
made  a  speech.  Bishop  Andrew  was  present  and 
predicted  that  the  lad  would  make  a  preacher,  and 
sure  enough  ten  years  afterward  he  was  admitted  in 
the  South  CaroHna  Conference,  while  the  Bishop  was 
President. 

Bishop  Andrew  was  now  in  the  prime  of  his  life, 
and  at  no  time  was  his  preaching  with  greater  power. 
His  manner  was  singularly  imposing  and  his  Eng- 
lish classic ;  he  never  hesitated  for  a  word,  and  there 
was  a  rich  vein  of  poetic  imagery  which  ran  through 
his  brain  and  from  which  he  often  drew.  His  brill- 
iant personifications  of  the  heroes  of  the  Bible  were 
thrillingly  beautiful. 

His  wife,  I  suppose  as  she  had  expected  to  do, 
joined  him  at  her  sister's,  and  he  spent  the  months  in- 
tervening before  July  probably  in  New  York  and  its 
vicinity,  and  in  July  he  started  on  his  tour  to  the 
West.  I  am  unable  to  give  the  list  of  Conferences. 
Probably  Ohio,  Kentucky.  Missouri,  Tennessee,  Ala- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


283 


bama,  and  Georgia.  The  three  last  I  am  assured  of. 
Dr.  Rivers,  who  was  a  young  man  then  at  the  Wes  - 
leyan  University  at  La  Grange,  Ala.,  gives  a  graphic 
accQunt  of  his  visit  to  La  Grange  and  his  sermon  there. 

**  In  the  fall  of  1834  an  appointment  to  preach  at  La 
Grange,  Ala.,  was  made  for  this  man  of  God.  He 
was  just  from  Athens,  Ala.,  where  he  had  preached  in 
the  court-house  yard  his  famous  sermon  on  family 
government.  His  fame  had,  therefore,  preceded  him, 
and,  although  the  appointment  was  for  Wednesday  at 
II  o'clock  A.M.,  he  had  a  large  congregation.  Many 
came  from  the  Courtland  and  Tuscumbia  Valleys. 
The  text  was  taken  from  Hebrews  xii :  i  :  *  Where- 
fore seeing  we  also  are  compassed  about  with  so 
great  a  cloud  of  witnesses.*  I  have  never  seen  a 
congregation  more  delighted.  There  was  not  the 
least  effort  at  display,  yet  that  large  audience  of  pro- 
fessors and  students  and  citizens  and  visitors  from  the 
valley  were  held  spell-bound  for  more  than  an  hour. 
Looking  unto  Jesus  !  Never  did  I  hear  it  more  viv- 
idly illustrated.  He  described  a  ship  at  sea,  moving 
grandly  before  the  wind.  Suddenly  a  cry  is  heard, 
*  A  man  overboard  ! '  All  is  excitement.  Ropes 
are  thrown  out.  Strong  hands  and  warm  hearts  are 
there.  '  Look  aloft,'  they  cry  ;  *  here,  seize  this 
rope.'  The  poor  drowning  man  does  not  take  time 
to  inquire  of  what  the  rope  is  made,  nor  whether  it 
is  his  own  act  or  the  power  from  above  that  saves 
him.  He  grasps  it  and  holds  with  a  tight  grip  until 
he  is  out  of  danger  and  safe  on  the  deck  of  the  proud 
ship.  *  Then,'  said  the  Bishop,  *  every  jolly  tar  on 
board  gives  him  a  hearty  shake,  and  every  passenger 
rejoices  that  a  man  is  saved.    Man  on  life's  ocean  is 


284 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


sailing  on  the  good  old  ship  of  Zion.  Christ  is  with 
us  as  our  great  captain.  Many  a  poor  fellow  is  over- 
board, and  we  throw  out  the  rope  of  faith.  Take  hold, 
looking  unto  Jesus.  Don't  stop  to  inquire  whether 
faith  is  the  gift  of  God  or  the  act  of  the  man,  but 
just  take  hold  of  the  rope  and  you  will  soon  be  safe 
on  board,  and  we  will  all  give  you  a  joyful  welcome 
and  a  glorious  voyage.'  Every  eye  was  on  the  speaker, 
and  many  overflowed  with  tears.  Without  an  effort 
he  had  taken  captive  his  entire  audience.  The  Bishop 
was  the  guest  of  Prof.  W.  H.  Ellison,  and  I  was  a 
member  of  his  family  and  his  pupil.  So  the  Bishop 
endeared  himself  to  me,  as  he  did  to  us  all,  by  the 
simplicity  of  his  manners  and  his  entire  freedom  from 
that  show  of  dignity  which  inspires  awe.  We  all  felt 
that  we  were  in  the  presence  of  real  greatness  clothed 
with  the  deepest  humility. 

"The  Bishop  was  on  horseback,  and,  in  company 
with  Professor  Ellison,  went  through  the  mountains  to 
Tuscaloosa,  the  seat  of  the  Alabama  Conference. 
Thus  he  traveled  for  years  after  his  election  to  the 
Episcopacy.  In  1837  he  again  passed  through  La 
Grange,  giving  us  a  brief  call  and  endearing  himself 
still  more  to  us." 

Leaving  Greensborough,  Ala.,  as  soon  as  Conference 
adjourned,  he  made  his  way  as  rapidly  as  possible  to 
Savannah,  where  the  Georgia  Conference  was  to  be 
held.  He  could  not  reach  it  in  time  for  the  opening 
of  the  session,  but  arrived  shortly  afterward  and  pre- 
sided and  made  the  appointments. 

He  now  returned  to  Augusta,  having  been  absent 
nearly  an  entire  year.  He  had  only  a  short'  period  of 
rest,  and  then  he  was  away  again  to  the  North  and 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


285 


West.  In  July,  1835,  he  was  at  Pittsburg.  Here  he 
met  a  young  man  with  whom  he  had  a  most  interesting 
interview,  and  for  whom  he  and  his  venerable  asso- 
ciate, Bishop  Roberts,  had  a  high  regard.  That 
young  man  is  now  Bishop  Matthew  Simpson,  and  he 
gives  a  short  account  of  this  meeting  : 

"Philadelphia,  January  26,  1882. 

Dear  Brother  Smith  : 

"  I  had  but  little  personal  acquaintance  with  Bishop 
Andrew.  I  first  met  him  at  the  Pittsburg  Conference 
in  1835.  I  had  then  been  stationed  in  the  city  as 
junior  preacher  one  year,  and  assisted  in  preparing  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  Conference.  It  was  my 
second  year,  and  I  was  one  of  the  class  received  into 
full  connection.  I  shall  ever  remember  the  address  of 
Bishop  Andrew,  so  full  of  kindly  feeling  and  pastoral 
admonition.  His  sermon  on  the  Sabbath  was  a 
masterly  effort,  a  clear  exhibition  of  ministerial  duty 
and  responsibility,  and  a  fervent  appeal  especially  to 
young  preachers.  It  made  a  deep  impression  on  my 
mind  and  heart 

"The  evening  after  Conference  closed  I  was  in- 
vited to  the  Bishop's  room,  where  I  met  Bishop  Rob- 
erts and  Dr.  Charles  Elliot.  The  subject  of  conversa- 
tion was  the  probable  establishment  of  a  mission 
either  in  China  or  in  Jerusalem.  I  was  asked  by  the 
Bishops  if  I  would  be  willing  to  go  as  missionary  to 
either  country,  provided  a  mission  should  be  estab- 
lished. My  simple  reply  was  that  I  was  in  the  hands 
of  the  Church,  subject  to  its  appointments,  and  ready 
at  any  moment  to  go  anywhere.  I  held  myself  in 
readiness  for  the  work  for  several  years,  but  it  was 


286 


The  Life  ajtd  Letters  of 


concluded,  in  view  of  the  state  of  the  missionary 
treasury,  that  it  was  not  wise  to  undertake  at  that 
time  so  large  a  work. 

"  I  remember  with  pleasure  the  Bishop's  frankness 
and  cordiality  of  manner,  as  well  as  his  earnest  de- 
votional utterances.  I  never  saw  him  again  until  the 
General  Conference  of  1844,  when  I  had  but  a  brief 
interview.  The  bearing  of  the  Bishop  during  those 
eventful  and  trying  scenes  was  personally  dignified 
and  fraternal.  I  saw  him  for  the  last  time  at  the 
Louisville  Convention,  which  I  attended  for  a  day  or 
two  as  spectator. 

As  a  young  minister,  I  had  for  him  a  warm  attach- 
ment and  great  reverence.  I  not  only  admired  his 
addresses  and  sermons,  but  I  read  with  deep  interest 
his  reminiscences. 

It  was  one  of  the  most  painful  acts  of  my  life  that 
I  felt  obliged  to  cast  my  vote  against  him  in  1844. 

"M.  Simpson." 

I  regret  I  am  not  able  to  speak  accurately  of  this 
tour.  After  he  left  Pittsburg  Bishop  Roberts  was  with 
him,  and  from  the  times  at  which  these  Conferences 
met,  it  is  probable  he  was  in  Ohio,  Missouri,  and 
Tennessee,  returning  to  Georgia  in  time  to  preside 
over  the  Georgia  Conference  in  January,  1836.  As 
these  trips  were  made  in  private  conveyance,  and  as 
the  Conferences  embraced  large  districts,  the  work  of 
Presidency  was  the  smallest  part  of  the  work.  Dur- 
ing all  these  journeys  he  preached  a  great  deal,  for  he 
made  it  a  rule  to  preach  at  every  opportunity. 

He  had  now  made  very  extensive  trips,  almost  cir- 
cHng  the  United  States.    In  1836  the  General  Con- 


James  Osgood  A7idrew. 


287 


ference  met  at  Cincinnati.  Roberts,  Soule,  Hedding, 
and  Andrew  were  present.  Andrew  was  much  the 
youngest  of  the  college.  Hedding  and  Roberts  were 
both  old  and  feeble,  Soule  in  the  vigor  of  his  health, 
and  Andrew  only  forty-two.  He  was  an  excellent 
President,  and  now,  though  he  was,  as  he  said,  too 
timid  to  make  a  speech  in  the  Conference,  he  was  to 
preside  over  it,  and  decide  questions  of  parliamentary 
law  at  a  time  when  there  were  to  be  subjects  of  very 
great  difficulty  brought  before  the  body.  The  Confer- 
ence was  agitated  by  questions  concerning  slavery  and 
aboHtionism,  and  finally  passed  resolutions  condemn- 
ing very  decidedly  those  preachers  who  took  part  in 
aboHtion  meetings.  The  Conference  elected  Fisk, 
Waugh,  and  Morris,  Bishops.  Fisk  declined  to  be 
ordained  on  account  of  ill  health,  but  Waugh  and 
Morris  became  the  colleagues  of  the  Bishop.  Bishop 
Roberts  was  now  very  feeble,  and  so  was  Bishop 
Soule.  Bishop  Emory  was  dead.  Bishop  Hedding  was 
by  no  means  young  or  strong,  and  so  upon  Andrew's 
shoulders  fell  the  hard  work  of  visiting  the  frontier 
and  the  Southern  and  Western  Conferences.  The 
college  was  now  strengthened  by  two  valuable  men. 
With  one  of  these  Bishop  Andrew  was  on  terms  of 
very  close  intimacy — Bishop  Morris.  The  Confer- 
ence adjourned,  and  he  returned  to  Augusta. 


288 


The  Life  and  Letters 


CHAPTER  VII. 


LIFE  AT   CHESTNUT   GROVE,  AND   SECOND  QUAD- 


Chestnut  Grove.— Visitations  in  the  Winter  of  1836  and  Spring  of  1837.— 
Visits  North  CaroHna  Conference  in  1839. — Dr.  Edwards'  account  of 
Missionary  Address.— Home  Life  at  Chestnut  Grove. 


HE  Georgia  Conference,  at  the  meeting  of  1833 


J-  in  La  Grange,  decided  to  establish  a  Manual 
Labor  School  at  some  point  in  Middle  Georgia,  and 
the  commissioners  had  purchased  a  farm  not  far  from 
the  village  of  Covington  and  established  the  school 
under  the  care  of  Dr.  A.  Means. 

Bishop  Andrew  was  President  of  the  Board  of  Trus- 
tees. He  felt  deep  interest  in  the  school,  and  decided 
to  fix  his  home  near  to  it.  His  mother  was  growing 
quite  old  and  needed  his  care,  and  his  long  absences 
from  home  prevented  his  seeing  her  often,  so  he  se- 
cured a  farm  for  her  adjoining  his,  and  the  two  families 
were  settled  near  to  each  other.  Harbert,  who  was 
now  a  teacher  of  no  mean  repute,  taught  an  academy- 
near  his  home.  He  could  not  use  his  legs,  but  that  he 
could  use  his  arms  many  a  Newton  County  urchin 
could  testify. 

Bishop  Andrew  presided  over  the  Georgia  Confer- 
ence in  December,   1836,  and  in  the  early  spring 


RENIUM  OF  EPISCOPAL  WORK. 


I 836-1 840. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


289 


began  his  Eastern  tour,  presiding  over  the  South 
CaroHna,  North  Carolina,  Virginia,  and  Baltimore 
Conferences.  At  the  Baltimore  Conference  he  or- 
dained as  Deacon  a  young  Englishman  who  has,  while 
these  pages  were  undergoing  revision,  ceased  at  once 
to  work  and  live — Thomas  O.  Summers.  He  said  : 
I  believe  my  personal  acquaintance  with  Bishop 
Andrew  began  in  Baltimore  in  1837,  when  he  ordained 
me  Deacon.  I  found  him  affable  and  kind,  and  not 
disposed  to  assume  Episcopal  dignity  and  impor- 
tance." 

In  the  fall  he  went  again  through  the  Indian  coun- 
try to  the  Tennessee  Conference,  which  met  in  Somer- 
ville,  Tenn.  He  thence  proceeded  farther  West, 
preaching  as  he  went.  Dr.  Rivers  tells  of  his  meeting 
him  again  at  La  Grange,  Ala.,  and  says:  ''A  large 
crowd  went  with  him  on  horseback  to  the  Conference. 
An  appointment  to  preach  at  Savannah,  Tenn.,  pre- 
ceded him.  The  people  had  never  seen  a  Bishop. 
Among  his  traveling  companions  was  Major  R.  P., 
a  gentleman  of  immense  size,  weighing  nearly  three 
hundred  pounds.  The  Major  was  much  amused  that 
he  should  be  mistaken  for  the  Bishop.  The  people, 
of  course,  took  the  largest  man  in  the  crowd  for  the 
Bishop,  and  the  Major  found  himself  receiving  great 
consideration, »  but  soon  learned  that  his  size  had 
caused  the  mistake." 

The  Arkansas  Conference  was  cut  off  from  the  Mis- 
souri in  1836,  and  Bishop  Andrew  was  now  to  preside 
over  it  at  Little  Rock,  and  from  Somerville  he  made 
his  way  through  the  bayous  and  swamps  to  that 
place,  where  the  brave  band  of  pioneers  met  him. 
There  was,  where  there  are  now  four  Annual  Confer- 
13 


290 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ences,  at  that  time  one,  with  3,054  white  members. 
Little  Rock  was  then  a  station  with  only  thirty-six 
members.  We  shall  be  able  to  get  a  glimpse  of  this 
heroic  Conference  through  the  Bishop's  own  glasses 
after  a  while.  After  he  left  Little  Rock  he  probably 
presided  over  the  Mississippi  and  Alabama  Confer- 
ences, and  reached  home  in  the  early  part  of  the  year 
1838. 

His  Episcopal  tour  for  1838-39  began  with  Georgia, 
in  December.  This  Conference,  which  met  in  Eaton- 
ton,  was  the  one  at  which  his  old  friend  Judge  Long- 
street  became  a  member.  Bishop  Andrew  had  now 
presided  over  his  own  Conference,  in  the  six  years  he 
had  been  a  Bishop,  five  times.  No  wonder  he  was 
surprised,  since  he  had  never  gone  to  New  England, 
and  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  ever  go,  that 
his  brethren  there  should  be  so  troubled,  in  1844, 
about  receiving  an  appointment  from  his  hands.  The 
South  Carolina  Conference  met  in  Cheraw,  and  he 
was  among  his  old  friends.  From  thence  he  went  to 
North  Carolina,  where  the  newly  organized  North 
Carolina  Conference  was  holding  its  second  session. 
Rev.  Dr.  Edwards,  of  Virginia,  a  sprightly  young 
man  on  the  Beaufort  station,  was  ordained  an  Elder 
at  this  Conference.    He  says  of  the  Bishop's  visit : 

"  My  personal  recollections  of  Bishop  Andrew  go 
back  to  the  session  of  the  North  Carolina  Conference, 
held  in  Salisbury,  January,  1839,  at  which  he  pre- 
sided, and  at  which  time  I  was  ordained  Elder,  re- 
ceiving my  parchment,  bearing  his  signature,  seal,  and 
motto.  That  which  impressed  me  most  was  his  un- 
affected simplicity  of  manners,  his  gentle  and  fatherly 
counsels,  and  his  savory  piety.    At  that  Conference 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


291 


he  delivered  an  address  at  the  missionary  meeting, 
which  I  thought  then,  and  still  think,  was  the  most 
eloquent,  impressive,  and  powerful  missionary  address 
and  appeal  that  ever  fell  on  my  ears  from  the  lips  of 
mortal  man.  Since  that  time  I  have  heard  many  great 
speeches  on  that  subject  from  the  best  platform  speak- 
ers in  England  and  America,  but  the  equal  of  that 
speech  I  never  heard,  not  even  from  Arthur,  or  Pun- 
shon,  or  Farrar,  of  England  ;  or  Durbin,  or  Capers, 
or  Pierce,  or  Munsey,  of  America.  I  read  a  speech 
by  Rev.  Stephen  Olin,  delivered  in  Charleston,  S.  C, 
as  early  as  1830,  that  more  nearly  approximated  it 
than  anything  that  has  ever  fallen  under  my  eye,  or 
on  my  ear,  in  all  my  recollection  of  missionary  ad- 
dresses." 

From  thence  to  Virginia,  Baltimore,  Philadelphia, 
and  New  York  I  have  been  able,  up  to  this  time,  to 
follow  his  steps  with  almost  perfect  accuracy ;  but 
from  New  York  until  he  returned  home  I  have  no 
memorandum.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  he  re- 
turned to  Chestnut  Grove  in  July,  since  the  college 
work  in  Georgia  demanded  his  presence.  Emory  Col- 
lege was  opened  in  1839,  and,  as  he  was  President  of 
the  Board  of  Trustees,  it  is  almost  certain  that  he  re- 
turned at  once  from  the  North.  If  so,  he  was  never 
in  New  England,  and  never  presided  over  the  Oneida, 
Genesee,  and  Troy  Conferences.  His  home  during 
this  period  was  at  Chestnut  Grove.  His  absence  from 
it  was  protracted — never  less  than  six  months,  and 
sometimes  over  a  year ;  but  while  he  was  at  home 
he  was  not  interrupted  by  calls  for  work.  There  were 
no  railways  and  no  facilities  for  doing  extra  labor  as 
now  abound.    His  mother  lived  near  him.    He  had 


292 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


his  nephews  at  his  house,  going  to  the  Manual  Labor 
School.  His  dear  wife  relieved  him  from  all  house- 
hold cares.  It  was,  indeed,  a  happy  home  then.  The 
dear  Amelia,  while  not  vigorous,  was  able  to  super- 
intend family  affairs.  Elizabeth  was  a  young  lady, 
full  of  brightness,  always  cheerful  and  gentle  ;  Hen- 
rietta, or,  as  he  used  to  call  her,  his  "  Little  Speckled 
Hen,"  full  of  merriment  and  affection  ;  and  Sarah, 
now  grown  up,  a  thoughtful,  sensitive,  attractive  girl. 
Mary  was  the  little  girl  and  Occie  the  baby.  His 
salary  was  not  large,  but  sufficient  to  keep  him  from 
any  privation.  His  own  health  was  generally  good, 
and  his  spirits,  when  at  home,  buoyant.  Alexander 
MacFarlane  Wynne,  his  wife's  nephew  and  his  foster 
son,  was  an  inmate  of  the  family,  and  John  Mood,  a 
son  of  his  old  friend  in  Charleston  and  a  nephew  of 
his  wife,  was  also  with  him.  When  he  came  home 
everything  was  made  as  bright  as  could  be,  and  he 
who  seemed  so  stern  and  satirical  at  times  was  all 
sunshine  then.  To  romp  with  the  children,  to  saun- 
ter over  the  farm,  to  go  to  a  country  church,  to  per- 
fectly unbend  as  far  as  his  religion  would  allow  him, 
was  now  his  object. 

"  He  invariably,  after  a  dry  spell,"  says  his  nephew, 
W.  Wynne  Mood,  "  would  tumble  the  children  out 
into  the  rain,  and  sometimes  keep  them  out  until  they 
were  pretty  wet.  Once  Brother  John,  who  lived  with 
him  and  was  among  the  first  of  the  scholars  at  the 
Manual  Labor  School,  and  the  Bishop's  daughters, 
combined  against  him  in  a  snow-balling  frolic.  But 
he  was  irrepressible  and  would  not  give  up.  Finally 
Brother  John  was  wearied  out,  and  the  Bishop  had  it 
all  his  own  way,  and  he  piled  the  snow  upon  John's 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


293 


head  and  stuffed  it  down  his  neck  and  back.  That 
night  Brother  John  was  hoarse,  and  Aunt  Andrew 
sent  for  Dr.  Smith.  He  said  John  had  quinsy,  and 
he  must  be  watched  very  closely.  They  sat  up  with 
him  all  night.  The  Bishop  was  greatly  troubled  over 
the  results  of  his  frolic.  However,  no  harm  came  out 
of  it." 

There  are  periods  in  most  lives  when  care  and  sor- 
row and  perplexity  seem  to  declare  a  truce  and  leave 
the  man  to  the  unmixed  enjoyment  of  the  delights 
of  living.  So  it  was  with  him  at  this  time.  Coving- 
ton, a  pleasant  little  town,  was  a  mile  away,  and  Ox- 
ford, two  miles  off,  was  just  beginning  to  be  peopled. 
The  neighbors  were  congenial  in  every  way,  and 
while  he  was  at  home  they  kept  the  Grove  cheerful 
with  their  presence.  One  of  his  nearest  neighbors 
and  life-long  friend  was  Rev.  Allen  Turner,  somewhat 
of  an  ascetic,  and  apparently  very  stern,  with  very 
decided  and  pronounced  views  on  all  subjects,  who 
feared  neither  bishops  nor  learned  men.  He  was  much 
loved  by  the  Bishop  and  by  his  family.  Judge  Long- 
street  had  now  brought  up  his  family  from  Augusta 
and  taken  charge  of  the  college  in  Oxford,  and  was 
often  at  the  Grove.  Few  men  ever  loved  each  other 
better  than  Andrew  and  himself,  and  yet  what  oppo- 
sites  they  were.  Bishop  Andrew  was  not  a  scholar  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  term.  His  ability  to  use  the  Eng- 
lish tongue  has  rarely  been  excelled,  and  he  was  a  man 
of  fine  information  ;  but  Longstreet  was  a  classical 
scholar  of  high  grade.  The  Judge  was  as  playful  as  a 
kitten,  and  his  wrinkled  face  fairly  glittered  with  mer- 
riment ;  the  Bishop  appeared  stern  to  those  who  did 
not  know  him.     Longstreet  was  not  emotional,  but 


294  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Andrew  was  a  bundle  of  warm  and  intense  feelings. 
Andrew  was  a  decided  Whig,  Longstreet  a  Democrat 
of  the  Democrats  ;  when  they  met  there  was  not  a 
few  hits,  and  brilliant  sparks  would  fly. 

The  sharpness  of  repartee  was  one  of  Bishop  An- 
drew's marks,  and  the  good-natured  Judge  and  him- 
self were  fair  game  for  each  other.  Into  the  family 
circle  came  often  the  sweet,  classic  face  of  George  W. 
Lane,  son  of  the  General  Book  Agent  of  New  York, 
and  George  H.  Round,  the  classical  teacher,  and  often 
Dr.  Alexander  Means,  with  his  gentle  grace  and  warm 
feelings  and  broad  culture.  These  and  many  more 
united  to  make  Chestnut  Grove  the  happy  home  it 
was  to  him  then.  He  left,  however,  for  the  General 
Conference  in  April.  It  met  in  Baltimore,  May  i, 
1840,  and  there  were  twenty-eight  Conferences  repre- 
sented. There  were  six  Bishops :  Roberts,  aged  and 
feeble  ;  Hedding,  who  had  been  in  the  work  nearly 
forty  years,  and  whose  strong  frame  had  been  often 
shaken  by  disease,  prudent,  somewhat  of  a  tactician, 
strong  in  conviction,  and,  when  occasion  demanded, 
intrepid  in  conduct ;  Soule,  clear-headed,  strong- 
willed,  immovable  as  a  granite  mountain,  knowing  no 
fear  save  toward  God,  and  scorning  all  tact ;  Waugh, 
a  man  of  not  great  parts,  but  exceedingly  prudent 
and  judicious  ;  Morris,  of  great  body  and  heart,  who 
spoke  little  in  private  or  in  public,  but  when  he  wrote 
or  spoke  always  did  it  well ;  and  Andrew,  now  eight 
years  a  Bishop,  forty-six  years  old,  stern  in  look,  gen- 
tle in  heart,  brave  as  Cromwell  and  tender  as  Baxter, 
knowing  no  guide  but  God  and  seeking  no  power 
but  from  His  hand.  These  men  composed  the  Episco- 
pal college,  and  perhaps  no  one  of  them  in  1840  held 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


295 


so  high  a  place  in  the  love  of  his  brethren  as  James 
O.  Andrew.  He  had  by  this  time  become  known  to 
nearly  all  of  the  General  Conference,  and  to  know 
him  was  to  love  him. 

The  Church  never  seemed  so  united  and  prosperous. 
The  interminable  controversy  between  High  and  Low 
Church  parties,  which  turned  upon  the  election  of 
Presiding  Elders,  was  now  at  rest. 

The  abolitionists  had  received  such  a  rebuke  in  1836 
as  had  quieted  most  of  them,  and  the  Conferences 
had  shown  a  spirit  so  conservative  as  to  promise  re- 
spite for  a  long  time  from  this  cause  of  disturbance. 
The  feeling  of  fraternity  between  the  sections  was 
undisturbed  by  a  single  sectional  issue.  There  were 
no  Bishops  to  be  elected,  and  so  the  General  Con- 
ference of  1840,  the  last  before  the  fatal  breach,  gave 
not  the  remotest  indication  of  what  was  coming.  The 
list  of  delegates  presents  a  number  of  names  which 
have  gone  into  obscurity,  with  now  and  then  a  name 
which  has  a  lasting  fame.  Nathan  Bangs,  the  faith- 
ful, plodding,  clear-headed  father  of  his  Conference ; 
Joseph  Holdich,  then  in  life's  vigor,  who  gave  pro- 
mise of  what  place  he  would  fill  as  a  scholar  and 
an  author ;  Orange  Scott,  the  agitator,  who  went 
into  a  secession  shortly  afterward  ;  George  Peck,  one 
of  a  gifted  brotherhood,  who  knew  how  to  give  and 
take  sturdy  blows  ;  Adam  Poe,  one  of  the  pioneers  ; 
Leonidas  L.  Hamline,  gifted,  scholarly,  pious,  a  little 
visionary,  perhaps,  but  full  of  genuine  religious  fer- 
vor ;  Peter  Cartwright,  whose  common  sense,  buf- 
foonery, and  real  wit  made  a  sensation  everywhere  ; 
Andrew  Monroe,  who,  born  in  Maryland,  was  now 
at  work  in  Missouri,  and  was  to  remain  there  till  he 


296 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


stood  the  father  of  all  the  preachers  in  his  Confer- 
ence;  Henry  B.  Bascom,  the  peerless  preacher,  who 
was  now  in  a  Kentucky  college,  and  whose  fine  face 
and  person  were  united  to  grand  gifts  of  intellect ; 
Thomas  N.  Ralston,  a  young  man  who  was  to  do 
great  service  to  the  Church  with  tongue  and  pen  ;  E. 
R.  Ames,  shrewd,  managing,  decided,  who  was  after- 
ward to  be  a  Bishop ;  Robert  Paine  and  John  B. 
McFerrin,  college  president  and  editor,  of  whom  we 
have  spoken  before  ;  John  Harrell,  who  was  to  die  a 
missionary  to  the  Indians  ;  William  Winans,  the  fear- 
less Church  statesman — these  were  some  of  the  figures 
present.  Lovick  Pierce,  William  J.  Parks,  Ignatius 
A.  Few,  and  a  young  man  who  in  a  few  years  was  to 
be  a  Bishop,  but  who  was  now  not  quite  thirty  years 
old — George  F.  Pierce — came  from  Georgia. 

William  Capers  and  William  M.  Wightman,  a  young 
man  whose  voice  does  not  seem  to  have  been  loud 
enough  for  the  journal  to  catch  it,  and  whose  grand 
earthly  life  has  just  closed,  are  among  the  delegates 
from  South  Carolina ;  John  Early  and  William  A. 
Smith,  standing  as  they  have  stood  and  will  long 
stand,  representatives  from  Virginia.  From  Baltimore, 
John  A.  Collins,  who  was  to  lead  the  crusade  against 
Bishop  Andrew  in  1844;  Stephen  George  Roszell, 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  as  Bascomb  called  him 
in  the  old  days  of  1828  ;  Henry  Sheer,  short,  firm, 
brave,  a  Democrat  when  nearly  all  his  Conference  were 
Whigs,  who  had  liberty  to  do  as  he  pleased  and  say 
what  he  pleased  when  all  other  mouths  were  closed 
by  provost  marshals  ;  Norval  Wilson,  tall,  stately, 
composed,  with  massive,  towering  brow,  whose 
thoughtful  manner  gave  promise  of  what  was  coming 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


297 


when  he  rose,  which  he  did  but  seldom,  to  speak  ; 
and  Levi  Scott,  who  was  afterward  to  be  a  Bishop 
and  the  oldest  of  the  college  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church — these  were  all  there. 

The  Conference  had  only  routine  work  to  do. 
Abolition  petitions  came  in  by  the  score,  and  Orange 
Scott  presented  them  only  to  have  them  consigned  to 
committee,  who  buried  them  out  of  sight.  There  was 
no  fleecy  cloud  which  betokened  the  coming  storm. 
The  name  of  Bishop  Andrew  is  not  appended  to  the 
journal,  but  as  he  presided  a  few  days  before  the  Con- 
ference closed,  if  he  was  called  home  it  was  only  a 
little  while  before  adjournment.  He  came  back  to 
Chestnut  Grove,  and  after  a  few  months  of  rest,  started 
in  his  buggy  for  the  West.  There  was  hard  work 
before  him,  and  so,  leaving  the  good  wife  to  see  after 
the  unfinished  house  in  Oxford,  he,  in  company  with 

Jacob,"  turned  his  face  toward  the  sunset.  Who 
was  Jacob  ?  Why,  the  only  Jacob  of  the  kind  the 
world  ever  had  in  it — Jacob  R.  Danforth,  the  son  of  an 
old  Augusta  friend,  the  simple-hearted,  dreamy, 
poetic-gifted  Jacob.  Tall,  slender,  with  an  overplus 
of  kindly  mannerism,  with  brilliant  imaginings,  unsel- 
fish, amiable,  meek,  impracticable,  doing  constantly 
what  annoyed  you,  and  rebuking  you  by  the  gentle 
way  in  which  he  took  reproof  from  you — this  was 
Jacob  ;  who  wanted  to  be  a  Methodist  preacher,  and 
was  such  till  his  death  ;  and  a  Methodist  pastor,  and 
was  such  till  they  told  him  he  did  not  suit  the  office ; 
and  then  meekly  left  the  place  and  went  into  a  school- 
room and  did  patient,  hard  work  there  till  he  went 
home  to  God.  " 

The  first  we  hear  of  the  travelers  is  from  Holly 
13* 


298 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Springs,  Mississippi.  Two  weeks  before  he  had  pre- 
sided over  the  Tennessee  Conference  at  Jackson,  Madi- 
son County,  Tenn.  It  was  divided  now,  and  a  very- 
considerable  slice  of  it  was  transferred  to  a  new 
Conference,  the  Memphis.  There  were,  however,  still 
six  districts  in  the  Tennessee.  A.  L.  P.  Green  in  his 
vigor,  and  Fountain  E.  Pitts,  and  Thomas  Madden, 
and  S.  S.  Mondy,  all  young  men  and  strong,  were 
Presiding  Elders.  John  B.  McFerrin  was  an  editor, 
and  J.  B.  Walker  and  W.  D.  F.  Saurie  were  among 
the  stationed  preachers.  E.  C.  Slater,  who,  starting  in 
a  saddler's  shop  in  West  Virginia,  had  secured  a  good 
education,  was  now  first  beginning  that  brilliant  career 
of  usefulness  which  ended,  forty  years  afterward,  in  a 
martyr's  death  during  the  yellow  fever  plague  in 
Memphis. 

The  first  letter  we  have  is  from  Holly  Springs, 
where  our  travelers  were  resting  a  few  days,  and  it  is 
to  Elizabeth,  who  is  now  a  young  lady  twenty-three 
years  of  age. 

"  Holly  Springs,  Miss.,  November  21,  1840. 

"  My  Dear  Elizabeth  : 

"  I  wrofe  your  mother  a  long  letter  from  Jackson  at 
the  close  of  the  Conference,  and  one  to  Sarah  a  week 
later,  so  you  have  been  kept  pretty  well  informed  of  our 
movements.  And  now,  as  we  are  pausing  till  after 
Sabbath  in  this  pretty  little  town,  I  thought  I  would 
spend  an  hour  in  conversing  with  you.  We  left  Sum- 
merville  on  Thursday  morning  and  came  to  the  small 
town  of  La  Grange,  where  we  spent  the  night.  I 
preached  there  that  night  and  we  came  on  to  this 
place,  where  Jacob  preached  last  night  and  this  morn- 


James  Osgood  Aftdrezv. 


299 


ing,  and  where  I  expect,  God  willing,  to  preach  again 
to-morrow.  We  are  staying  at  the  house  of  an  old 
friend,  Brother  Travis,  and  we  dined  to-day  in  com- 
pany with  Brother  McPherson,  formerly  of  South 
Carolina. 

The  folks  about  Denmark  were  quite  disappointed 
at  not  seeing  you  with  me,  and  I  almost  repented 
that  I  had  not  brought  you.  But  you  would  have 
had  rough  fare,  and  I  know  not  how  or  when  you 
would  have  been  able  to  return  home.  Yet  I  very 
often  wish  I  had  you  to  talk  with  me,  as  next  to 
your  dear  mother  there  is  no  one  whose  society  is  so 
desirable  to  me  as  that  of  my  daughter.  You  are 
very  profitably,  and  I  hope  not  unpleasantly,  employed 
at  Chestnut  Grove,  as  I  suppose  you  are  commander- 
in-chief  there  since  your  mother  has  transferred  her 
headquarters  to  Oxford,  for  she  informs  me  in  her 
last  that  she  had  gone  there  with  part  of  the  family, 
though  she  did  not  tell  me  what  portion  of  her  dis- 
posable forces  she  had  taken  from  the  old  encamp- 
ment. Pray  let  me  know  all  about  it.  Has  Hennie  * 
gone  with  her,  or  does  she  remain  as  your  lieuten- 
ant ?  And,  pray,  how  do  you  all  get  along  ?  How 
does  Molly  come  on  reading  and  sewing  ?  Tell  her  I 
want  to  get  a  letter  from  her  before  long,  and  I  shall 
expect  her  to  make  that  shirt  soon,  too,  so  she  must  be 
industrious.  And  then  what's  the  news  from  my  lit- 
tle pouting  pet,  Occie  ?  I  hope  she  does  not  cloud  up 
as  often  as  she  used  to  do,  but  that  she  is  getting  to 
be  quite  a  good-natured,  smiling  little  girl.  Tell  her 
she  must  not  pout  any  more  while  I  am  away,  and 
when  I  come  home  I  must  find  her  as  *  smiling  as  a 
basket  of  chips.'    And  how  are  they  all  over  yon- 


300 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


der?  I  hope  your  dear  grandmother  is  well  and 
cheerful,  and  your  uncle  Harbert — I  suppose  his  for- 
tune is  made  since  Harrison  is  elected.  All  the  rest 
of  them,  I  hope,  are  doing  well.  Love  to  them  all.  I 
hope  to  meet  you  in  Columbus  on  my  way  home,  and 
trust  Sarah  received  my  letter  before  she  left  for  Ala- 
bama. Our  whole  family" out  here  in  the  West,  con- 
sisting of  Jacob,  Corban,  and  the  Bishop,  are  well, 
with  the  exception  that  the  latter  gentleman  is  labor- 
ing under  some  indisposition  from  cold.  I  trust,  my 
dear  child,  that  you  are  well,  and  that  you  are  all  try- 
ing to  urge  your  way  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  Sarah's 
letter  gratified  me  very  much,  and  its  spirit  of  ardent 
scriptural  piety  pleased  me.  I  believe  the  same  spirit 
animates  all  my  daughters,  and  I  think  it  is  not 
unreasonable  to  indulge  in  the  pleasing  hope  of  meet- 
ing you  all  in  that  peaceful  heaven  where  I  hope  to 
rest  when  life's  journeyings  are  past.  I  trust  to  hear 
from  you  and  H.  when  I  reach  Vicksburg.  My  love 
to  all  at  home,  white  and  black.  Kiss  MoUie  and 
Occie  for  me,  and  when  you  see  Mrs.  Anne  Amelia 
Andrezv,  of  Oxford,  present  my  kind  love  to  her,  and 
give  her  several  sweet  kisses  for  me." 

When  he  reached  Vicksburg  he  wrote  home  again, 
this  time  to  his  dearest  Amelia.  The  brave  woman 
was  doing  his  work  and  bearing  his  burdens  while 
he  was  away,  and  she  had  written  him  all  the  de- 
tails, and  there  was  a  trouble  in  New  York— a  great 
preacher  had  fallen.  It  is  now  forty  years  ago.  Many 
good  things  have  been  buried  in  that  time,  many 
good  deeds  forgotten ;  let  the  memory  of  this  evil 
thing  be  cast  into  the  same  grave — only  let  the  lesson 
be  remembered. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


301 


ViCKSBURG,  Miss.,  December  3,  1840. 

"  My  Dearest  Amelia  : 

*'  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter  from  Jackson,  which  I 
trust  you  have  received  long  since.  I  wrote  to  Sarah 
the  week  following,  but  fear  she  had  returned  to 
Alabama  before  it  reached  her.  One  week  later  I 
wrote  to  Elizabeth  from  Holly  Springs,  so  that  I  have 
kept  you  constantly  informed  of  my  movements. 
From  Holly  Springs  I  went  to  Memphis,  where  I 
preached  twice  on  last  Sabbath,  and  on  Monday 
night,  about  eight  o'clock,  took  the  steamboat  West 
Tennessee  for  this  place,  having  left  my  carriage  and 
horse  at  Memphis.  We  reached  here  last  night  about 
eleven  o'clock,  and  found  on  my  arrival  your  precious 
letter  and  one  from  Elizabeth.  They  were  cordials  to 
my  heart,  and  I  thank  you  both  very  sincerely  for 
them.  You  have  little  idea  how  great  a  pleasure  it  is 
to  me  to  hear  from  you.  Your  letters  to  me,  my  wife, 
are  read  again  and  again.  I  regret  that  the  unhappy 
New  York  affair  should  have  been  a  source  of  so  much 
temptation  and  spiritual  conflict  with  you.  What 
though  a  thousand  saints,  tall  and  strong,  should  be 
cast  down  from  their  excellency,  yet  our  faith  does 
not  stand  in  either  the  power  or  the  wisdom  or  the 
hoHness  of  men,  but  in  the  wisdom,  love,  and  faith- 
fulness of  a  promise-keeping  God.  *  He  by  His  oath 
hath  sworn,  we  on  His  oath  depend.'  And  though 
the  best  and  mightiest  men  on  earth  fail,  yet  the  foun-: 
dation  of  God  standeth  sure.  We  know  that  He  i^< 
God,  we  know  that  He  is  true. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  are  getting  along  so 
well  in  your  arrangements.  You  write  about  these 
matters  in  quite  a  business  style.    Your  plans,  so  far 


302 


The  Life  and  Lettej^s  of 


as  you  have  named  them,  entirely  meet  my  views.  In 
all  this  matter  I  have  entire  confidence  in  your  man- 
agement, and  leave  you,  my  love,  to  act  as  your  best 
judgment  shall  direct.  The  Conference  is  going  on 
thus  far  pretty  well,  and  will  close,  I  think,  about 
next  Thursday  night,  after  which,  God  willing,  I  shall 
probably  go  to  Selma,  by  way  of  New  Orleans  and 
Mobile.  It  will  be,  on  the  whole,  the  most  pleasant 
route.  But  the  most  weighty  consideration  is  that  it 
will  enable  me  to  dispense  the  Word  of  God  to  those 
two  important  cities.  Possibly  some  good  may  come 
of  it  to  somebody.  Jacob  will  return  to  Memphis  and 
will  meet  me  again  at  Selma.  By  the  way,  he  is 
laboring  under  a  very  severe  cough,  otherwise  we  are 
both  in  good  health.  I  need  not  say  I  think  of  you, 
love,  and  pray  for  you,  and  long  to  see  you.  My 
Amelia  knows  this  without  my  saying  it.  Yes,  my 
precious  wife,  wherever  I  am,  whatever  I  am  doing, 
whoever  is  around  me,  in  travel,  in  business,  in  com- 
munion with  friends,  my  heart  turns  instinctively  to 
you.  I  sit  with  you  around  the  happy  fireside,  I 
kneel  with  you  at  the  family  altar,  I  go  with  you  in 
your  daily  attention  to  business,  I  hear  the  sweet 
tones  of  your  voice  as  I  have  been  wont  sometimes 
to  hear  it,  and  oh,  how  I  long  for  the  hour  when  I 
shall  fold  to  my  heart  the  best  of  wives  ! 

"Well,  I  began  this  letter  last  night  and  have  re- 
sumed it  to-day.  I  thought  to  have  finished  it  this 
afternoon,  but  have  been  obliged  to  lay  down  my  pen 
four  or  five  times  to  listen  to  the  speech  of  some- 
body, either  crazy  or  sane,  who  wanted  to  see  *  the 
Bishop.'  And  now  I  have  been  listening  for  the  last 
two  hours  to  the  squabbling^  of  the  Presiding  Elders 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


303 


over  the  stations  of  the  preachers.  I  have  just  gotten 
clear  of  their  reverences,  and  am  thinking  of  home, 
sweet  home.  But  I  am  weary  and  cannot  finish  this 
epistle  to-night ;  trust  to-morrow  I  shall  finish  it.  As 
you  may  feel  some  interest  in  my  little  matters,  I 
ought,  perhaps,  to  inform  you  that^  at  Jackson  I 
preached  before  the  Conference  on  family  religion, 
and  the  publication  of  the  sermon  was  unanimously 
requested  by  the  Conference.  And  what  is  still 
stranger,  I  have  absolutely  written  a  number  of  pages 
in  the  last  three  weeks. 

"  To-day  I  delivered  a  charge  to  young  men  who 
were  admitted  into  full  connection,  and  was  unani- 
mously requested,  by  a  vote  of  Conference,  to  furnish 
a  copy  for  publication.  So,  you  see,  they  seem  re- 
solved to  drive  me  into  authorship.  Now  I  wish  you 
could  travel  with  me,  that  you  might  be  my  amanu- 
ensis ;  then  I  might  make  a  book. 

December  ^tJu — Blessed  be  God,  who  hath  brought 
me  in  safety  and  in  health  to  the  light  of  another 
morning,  and  who  gave  me  in  some  good  degree  the 
Holy  Spirit's  influence,  bringing  to  my  heart  peace  and 
comfort  through  Jesus  Christ.  For  thirty-six  hours 
we  have  had  dark,  cloudy  weather,  and  this  morning 
everything  around  us  is  white  with  snow,  and  the 
North  wind  is  playing  a  melancholy  dirge.  But  then 
I  am  snugly  anchored  by  a  good  fire.  God  pity  the 
poor  who  have  but  little  fuel,  food,  or  clothing.  Tell 
Kitty  I  wish  I  could  drink  a  cup  of  her  best  coffee 
this  morning.  I  hope  she  is  doing  well  and  will  pre- 
serve herself  chaste  in  Oxford.  She  will  be  greatly  ex- 
posed to  temptations,  and  I  hope  will  be  carefully 
guarded  in  her  conduct.    Well,  I  must  bring  this 


304 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


epistle  to  a  close,  as  business  will  call  me  in  a  few 
moments.  Kiss  Occie  and  Mollie  for  me,  and  tell  them 
father  loves  them  both  very  dearly  and  they  must  be 
good  girls.  Tell  Elizabeth  her  letter  gratified  me 
much ;  but  Hennie  has  not  condescended  to  give  me 
a  line.  My  love  and  kisses  to  both.  Love  to  mother 
and  the  family.  And  now,  farewell,  my  dear  Ameha. 
May  God  have  you  in  His  holy  keeping." 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


305 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


OXFORD  LIFE. 


I 841-1844. 


Emory  College,  Oxford. — Daughter's  Illness. — Amelia  Andrew's  Fatal 
Attack. — Her  Death. — Tour  to  the  West  in  1842. — Letter  to  Bishop 
Soule. — Visitation  of  1843. — Iowa. — Indiana. — Illinois. — Missouri. — 
Arkansas.  —Texas . 


HE  Manual  Labor  School  did  not  meet  all  the 


X  demands  of  the  Georgia  Methodists,  and  a  col- 
lege was  decided  upon.  It  was  to  be  located  within 
two  miles  of  the  Manual  Labor  School,  which  was  to 
be  an  adjunct.  It  was  called  Emory,  in  honor  of  the 
Bishop's  gifted  colleague,  who  had  been  so  suddenly 
cut  off.  The  projected  village  was  called  Oxford,  and 
when  the  lots  were  sold  Bishop  Andrew  bought  a  beau- 
tiful oak-covered  hill,  with  a  spring  at  its  foot,  and  had 
a  roomy  and  comfortable  house  built  on  its  summit. 
On  one  corner,  where  the  village  church  now  stands, 
there  was  a  little  school-house,  used  for  a  time  as  the 
house  of  worship.  To  this  house  Mrs.  Andrew  re- 
moved while  he  was  on  his  Western  tour  in  1840, 
and  when  he  returned  he  found  the  family  domiciled 
there.  The  village  was  a  very  beautiful  one.  Large 
oaks  covered  the  hills,  the  streets  all  converged  to 
the  campus,  and  there  the  college  buildings  were 
erected.    The  houses  were  large  and  neatly  built,  and 


306 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  population  from  among  the  best  people  of  the 
State.  The  society  was  very  highly  cultivated,  and  the 
religious  element  was  almost  the  only  one.  No  drink- 
ing-saloons  or  gambling-rooms  were  allowed  within 
two  miles  of  the  college. 

Judge  Longstreet  was  then  President  of  the  college, 
and  lived  very  near  the  Bishop.  Dr.  Capers  had  re- 
moved from  South  Carolina,  and  was  living  on  the 
lot  adjoining.  Means,  Lane,  and  Mitchell  were  pro- 
fessors in  the  college.  He  could  not  have  had  a  home 
more  delightful,  and  he  entered  it  with  gladness  when 
he  returned  from  the  West.  His  sky  never  seemed  so 
bright,  but  alas!  it  was  Indian  Summer,  and  the  win- 
ter's blasts  were  just  ahead. 

This  summer  Sarah  gave  birth  to  her  first  son, 
James  Osgood.  She  had  not  recovered  her  strength 
when  a  daughter  was  confined.  She  could  not  be  kept 
from  the  bedside ;  all  night  long  that  devoted  mother 
sat  by  the  suffering  daughter.  The  daughter  lived,  but 
the  chill  of  death  entered  into  the  mother's  heart.  She 
was  never  well  again.  The  heart  disease  which  had 
indicated  itself  in  Athens  now  rapidly  developed  and 
became  the  fearful  dropsy  of  the  chest.  Her  life 
began  to  certainly,  yet  not  rapidly,  wear  away.  Her 
sufferings  were  intense,  but  there  was  another  suffer- 
ing more  fearful  than  any  physical  pain.  She  was  in 
spiritual  darkness ;  she  could  not  feel  that  God  loved 
her,  she  was  not  assured  of  her  acceptance  with  Him. 
Those  inexplicable  hours  when  the  heart  cries  out  for 
the  living  God  and  finds  Him  not,  which  sometimes 
come  to  the  holiest,  are  to  those  who  know  God 
best  and  love  Him  more  the  Gethsemane  that  is 
only  a  little  before  the  opening  of  the  gates.    I  have 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


307 


spoken  of  Allen  Turner ;  God  loved  that  man,  and 
that  man  knew  He  did  ;  he  knew  he  could  trust  God. 
He  knew  how  to  pray  to  Him,  and  he  prayed  for  her. 
The  hour  of  victory  came.  The  mother  was  able  to 
give  up  her  little  ones,  her  husband,  her  all.  She 
never  lost  the  field  after  that.  One  day  William  Ca- 
pers, who  had  known  her  from  childhood,  sang  at  her 
bedside  as  he  could  sing,  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul," 
and  she  was  greatly  blessed.  She  said  :  I  am  in  the 
hands  of  a  good  God.  He  wants  to  save  me,  and  it 
requires  just  such  a  fiery  trial  to  subdue  my  proud 
heart  and  bring  me  fully  to  rest  in  Him." 

The  day  of  eternal  light  came  nearer,  but  the  dark 
shadows  gathered  again.  She  knew  all  was  well,  but 
she  could  not  feel  it,  and  her  soul  was  troubled.  Said 
Bishop  Andrew:  I  lifted  up  my  heart  to  God  on 
her  behalf,  and  about  sunset,  while  offering  my  peti- 
tion in  the  name  of  Jesus,  I  felt  a  strong  and  sweet 
assurance  that  all  would  be  right.  *  Be  of  good  cheer,' 
said  I,  '  God  will  speedily  deliver  you  ;  He  has  given 
me  a  pledge  that  He  would.*  '  Have  you  been  pray- 
ing for  me?'  *  Yes,  my  dear,'  said  I,  'and  God 
has  given  me  a  sweet  assurance  that  He  will  speedily 
deliver  you.'  She  seemed  encouraged,  and  con- 
tinued pleading  the  atonement  and  promises  of  the 
Saviour.  I  left  the  room,  and  in  about  fifteen  min- 
utes she  sent  for  me.  When  I  entered  the  room,  she 
was  exulting  in  God  her  Saviour.  *  Oh,'  said  she, 
'  how  could  I  be  so  foolish  as  to  doubt  the  goodness 
of  God  ?  Oh,  what  a  day  of  agony  have  I  passed 
through,  but  my  Saviour  has  delivered  me.  Oh,  praise 
Him,  all  of  you  ;  help  me  to  praise  Him.  I  who 
have  most  unfaithful  been — sinner  was  my  name,  but 


3o8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


I  am  saved  by  grace ;  oh,  bless  the  Lord,  my  soul, 
and  all  that  is  within  me  bless  His  holy  name.'  In 
this  strain  she  continued,  feeble  as  she  was,  until  mid- 
night, to  praise  God  incessantly  and  to  exhort  all  around 
her  to  serve  Him  and  to  meet  her  again  in  the  climes 
of  glory,  and  the  burden  of  all  was,  *  Trust  in  God  ; 
never  doubt  Him,  never  distrust  Him,  any  of  you.' 

"  She  had  several  young  men  boarding  with  us  ; 
she  had  them  all  called  in  and  gave  to  them  a  most 
solemn  charge  to  seek  God  and  meet  her  in  heaven. 
'  Look  at  me,'  she  would  say  ; '  see  my  poor  emaciated 
body  ;  what  should  I  do  now  if  it  were  not  for  the 
presence  of  my  Saviour  ?  '  Calling  to  Kitty,  who  had 
nursed  her  with  the  affection  of  a  daughter,  she  said  : 
'  Kitty,  you  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  and  I  love 
you  as  if  you  were  my  own  child.  Be  pious,  serve 
God,  and  promise  me  that  you  will  meet  me  in 
heaven.'  The  pledge  was  given,  and  now  she  said, 
*  Come  kiss  me,'  and  the  negro  slave  placed  her  ar- 
dent kiss  upon  the  lips  of  her  dying  mistress. 

"  The  Lord  shed  His  glory  on  her  dying  head,  and  as 
she  drew  near  the  end  she  said  :  '  I  am  like  a  little 
child  that  is  just  beginning  to  walk  alone  and  is  go- 
ing over  a  road  that  is  rough  and  stony.  The  father 
does  not  take  it  up  in  his  arms  and  carry  it  over,  but 
he  takes  it  by  the  hand  and  helps  it  along.  So  it  is 
with  me  ;  I  am  passing  through  a  dark  valley,  and 
the  way  is  rough,  and  my  feet  are  bruised,  and  my 
heavenly  Father  leads  me  a  step  at  a  time ;  but  I 
know  it  is  His  hand  that  holds  me,  and  I  shall  soon 
be  safe  over.' 

"She  pressed  my  hand  in  hers  and  said:  'Your 
poor  Amelia  will  soon  be  at  rest.    God  has  blessed  us 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


309 


greatly  together.  When  you  first  addressed  me  I 
scarcely  knew  how  to  act.  I  was  poor  and  you  were 
poor.  I  carried  the  matter  to  God  in  prayer,  and 
these  words  were  powerfully  impressed   upon  me : 

Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added."  I  became  yours,  and  we  have  jour- 
neyed together  for  almost  twenty-six  years.  Yet 
God's  promise  has  never  failed  us.  We  have  never 
lacked  ;  continue  to  trust  Him  to  the  end ;  He  will 
never  fail  you.  And  now,'  added  she,  '  I  solemnly 
charge  you  never  to  falter  in  your  Master's  work. 
Preach  the  Gospel  more  fully,  more  earnestly ;  preach 
it  with  all  your  might ;  tell  everybody  to  trust  the 
vSaviour,  and  if  God  permits  me  I  shall  be  your  guar- 
dian angel  in  all  your  journeyings.'  " 

She  sent  for  my  father,  Dr.  Smith,  who  was  her 
physician.  As  soon  as  he  came  she  asked  him  as  to 
her  pulse.  "  Very  feeble,"  he  said.  "That,"  replied 
she,  is  pleasant  news,  Doctor ;  I  am  almost  home, 
and  I  have  sent  for  you  to  rejoice  with  me." 

Her  infant  son  was  brought  to  her.  She  pressed 
him  to  her  bosom  and  commended  him  most  fer- 
vently to  God.  When  she  could  no  longer  speak  we 
perceived  she  wished  to  do  so.  Brother  Longstreet, 
who  sat  near  her,  asked  her  if  she  wished  to  tell  us 
"  God  was  good."  She  nodded  her  head  affirmatively 
three  or  four  times  and  fell  asleep. 

And  so  went  to  heaven  one  of  the  grandest  women 
of  Methodism.  The  brave  Scotch-American  girl  who 
took  James  O.  Andrew  by  the  hand  and  went  with 
him ;  the  woman  whom  Stephen  OHn  loved,  and 
Edward  Myers  turned  to  in  his  hours  of  trial,  and  in 
whom  George  Pierce  found  an  elder  sister  in  his  most 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


trying  day,  was  worthy  of  the  tribute  which  Dr.  Lov- 
ick  Pierce  pays  her.  He  says  in  his  sermon  on  Bishop 
Andrew  : 

"  I  trust  that  it  will  not  be  looked  upon  as  irrelevant 
to  the  object  of  this  memorial  for  me  to  say,  in  behalf 
of  the  first  Mrs.  Andrew,  and  of  many  others  of  the 
wives  of  Methodist  preachers,  that  the  Church  and 
the  world  owe  to  their  memory  a  debt  of  honor  that 
never  has  been,  and  never  will  be,  paid  off.  Talk  as 
you  will  about  moral  heroism,  its  finest  specimens 
will  be  found  among  the  wives  of  our  noble  pioneer 
itinerant  preachers  of  the  old  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence. I  think  myself  safe  in  saying  that  even  your 
revered  Bishop  would  have  been  compelled  to  give 
up  itinerancy  in  these,  the  mighty  years  of  his  man- 
hood, if  it  had  not  been  that  Mrs.  Andrew  preferred  to 
supplement  the  meagre  income  of  her  husband  by  the 
earnings  of  her  needle  at  midnight's  weary  watch, 
rather  than  see  him  leave  his  Master's  work  to  earn  in 
some  other  vocation  a  living  for  her  and  their  little 
ones.  Well  might  Solomon  say  in  eulogy  on  great 
womanhood  :  '  Many  daughters  have  done  virtuously, 
but  thou  excellest  them  all.'  In  the  galaxy  of  noble 
women  stood  Mrs.  Andrew  ;  and  by  her  self-sacri- 
ficing spirit  and  deep  devotion  to  Christ  and  his  Church, 
she  saved  her  great-souled  husband  to  the  Church  as 
one  of  its  chief  pastors.  What  I  say  I  know;  and  I 
cannot  parade  the  labors  of  the  Bishop  before  you  to- 
day for  memorial  eulogy  and  leave  his  faithful  Amelia 
out,  for  I  am  satisfied  that  this  great  woman  had 
much  to  do  in  giving  us  at  last  a  good  Bishop." 

Bishop  Andrew  had  watched  at  her  bedside  with  an 
anguished  heart  by  night  and  day  for  months,  until 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


311 


the  light  went  out  in  the  sick  chamber  at  last,  and,  as 
far  as  earth  was  concerned,  the  light  from  his  heart 
and  his  home.  Those  beautiful  spring  days  of  1842 
brought  no  brightness  to  him. 

Elizabeth  was  now  twenty-four  years  old,  a  dutiful, 
pious  daughter,  and  she  took  charge  of  the  family. 
Hennie  was  younger,  and  was  now  happily  married  to 
Thomas  M.  Merriwether.  She  lived  at  Chestnut  Grove, 
near  her  father.  Sarah,  his  invalid  child,  was  an  in- 
mate of  his  home.  The  two  little  girls  and  Jimmie, 
the  baby,  made  the  family.  There  was,  however,  an- 
other— Kitty,  the  servant-girl.  We  have  seen  the 
Bishop's  message  to  her,  and  her  dying  mistress'  in- 
junction and  caress,  and  if  ever  there  was  a  faithful,  lov- 
ing servant  it  was  Kitty.  Jacob  and  herself  were  the 
only  slaves  Bishop  Andrew  ever  really  owned.  A  good 
woman  in  Augusta  left  him  in  her  will  this  negro — 
a  mulatto  child.  He  was  to  bring  her  up  and  educate 
her  as  far  as  he  could,  and  when  she  reached  the  age  of 
nineteen  she  was  to  be  free  to  go  to  Liberia  or  re- 
main with  him  as  his  slave.  Kitty  was  a  model  girl. 
Brought  up  by  a  mistress  who  loved  her,  watched 
over  by  a  master  who  felt  the  tenderest  solicitude  for 
her  welfare,  she  grew  up  a  pure,  good  young  woman. 
She  married  a  colored  man  named  Nathan,  and  Bish- 
op Andrew  had  a  neat  little  house  built  for  her  on 
his  own  lot,  and  she  lived  here  merely  in  name  a  slave. 
Before  her  mistress'  death  in  1842  she  reached  her 
maturity,  and  the  question  of  what  she  would  choose 
was  submitted  to  her.  Judge  Longstreet  and  George 
W.  Lane  were  selected  to  lay  the  matter  before  her. 
The  document,  in  Judge  Longstreet's  hand,  says  : 

"This  day,  Kitty,  a  woman  of  color,  left  in  charge 


312 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


of  the  Rev.  James  O.  Andrew  by  the  will  of  Mrs. 
Power,  came  before  us,  when,  in  the  absence  of  every- 
one but  herself  and  the  undersigned,  the  following 
conversation  occurred  : 

B,  Longstreet.—'  Kitty,  your  mistress  directed  in 
her  will  that  you  should  remain  with  Bishop  Andrew 
until  you  reached  the  age  of  nineteen,  when  it  was  to 
be  left  to  your  choice  to  go  to  Liberia  or  remain  with 
the  Bishop.    The  time  has  now  come  when  you  are  to 
make  your  choice,  and  you  will  do  well  to  think  seri- 
ously of  the  matter.    If  you  go  to  Liberia  you  will 
be  perfectly  free,  as  free  as  I  am  now.    You  will  be 
under  laws,  to  be  sure,  just  as  I  am,  to  prevent  you 
from  doing  anything  very  bad,  but  you  will  have  no 
master,  no  mistress  ;  you  will  be  in  all  respects  just 
like  white  women  in  this  country ;  you  will  have  to 
work  for  a  living,  as  all  must,  but  what  you  make  will 
be  your  own.    The  climate  is  not  as  healthy  as  this, 
particularly  to  persons  going  there  for  the  first  time, 
but  after  you  get  used  to  it  you  would  probably  live 
as  long  there  as  you  will  here.    If  you  conclude  to  go 
the  Bishop  will  send  you  at  his  expense.    It  is  a  long 
voyage  by  water.    If  you  stay  with  the  Bishop  the 
will  directs  that  he  is  to  grant  you  all  the  privileges 
of  a  free  woman  that  the  law  will  allow,  but  you 
will  have  to  depend  upon  his  character  for  that,  and 
you  will  still  be  a  slave.    Now,  think  of  this  matter  and 
make  your  choice  for  all  time  to  come.    If  you  have 
had  any  stories  told  you  about  that  country  that 
have  alarmed  you,  disregard  them.    I  have  told  you 
the  truth  so  far  as  I  know  it.    Now,  make  your 
choice.' 

"  Kitty. — *  I  don't  want  to  go  to  that  country.  I 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


313 


know  nobody  there.    It  is  a  long  ways  and  I  might 
die  before  I  get  there.' 

B.  Longstreet. — '  This,  then,  is  your  choice  ?  ' 
Kiiiy.—'Y^s,  sir.' 

A.  B.  Longstreet. — *  Then  I  may  write  it  down  as 
your  final  choice  that  you  remain  with  Bishop  An- 
drew ?  ' 

Kitty. — '  Yes,  sir.    I  don't  want  to  go  there.' 
**  We  certify  that  the  above  is  as  nearly  a  literal  re-  * 
port  of  our  interview  with  Kitty  as  we  can  make. 
Not  a  word  was  said  that  could  influence  her  decision 
which  is  not  here  recorded. 

A.  B.  Longstreet, 
**  George  W.  Lane. 

**  December  4,  1841." 

Kitty's  decision  was  final,  and  she  remained,  as  be- 
fore, the  faithful  friend  and  dutiful  servant,  until  her 
marriage,  when  she  went  to  housekeeping  near  by,  and 
her  house  was  the  resort  of  the  children,  and  Mammy 
Kitty  "  (as  the  baby  called  her)  was  the  one  to  whom, 
in  hours  of  childish  grief  or  perplexity,  all  the  troubles 
were  carried.  During  Mrs.  Andrew's  illness,  which 
was  some  time  previous  to  Kitty's  marriage,  she  was 
tireless  in  her  attentions.  Watching  by  her  bedside 
through  the  night,  and  reading  the  Scriptures  and 
singing  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion  to  her  dear  Miss 
Amelia,  was  her  delight.  Her  love  seemed  more  like 
that  of  a  child  than  a  servant.  Toward  the  close  of 
that  long  illness,  when  the  nurses  were  being  ex- 
hausted, Kitty  still  clung  to  her  post,  and  could  with 
difficulty  be  prevailed  on  to  retire  for  rest.  She  was 
universally  respected  in  the  community  of  Oxford, 
14 


3H 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


and  loved  by  the  members  of  the  Bishop's  family  as  a 
true  and  faithful  friend.  In  her  last  hours,  when  she 
felt  she  must  die,  she  sent  for  the  Bishop  and  thanked 
him  for  his  kind  care  and  for  the  religious  training  of 
her  earlier  years.  She  said,  "  I  shall  soon  see  Miss 
Amelia  in  the  better  land,"  and  after  commending  her 
little  girl  to  the  Bishop's  daughter,  she  passed  with 
triumphant  shouts  from  this  scene  of  toil  and  conflict 
to  the  world  of  brightness  and  glory  above. ' 

The  terrible  blow  which  had  fallen  upon  him  was 
received  meekly  and  unmurmuringly.  He  said,  **Tt 
is  the  Lord,"  and  went  calmly  on.  Elizabeth  took 
her  mother's  place.  Gentle,  sympathizing  friends  did 
all  that  human  sympathy  could  suggest,  and  letters  of 
tender  condolence  came  to  him  from  all  sections. 
Perhaps  none  touched  him  more  than  this  from 
Stephen  Olin  : 

*•  West  PouLTNEY,  Vt.,  May  15,  1842. 

Rev.  and  Dear  Brother  : 

I  received  your  letter  fraught  with  the  heavy  intel- 
ligence of  Sister  Andrew's  death.  I  thought  to  an- 
swer it  at  once,  but  could  not.  My  feelings  were 
much  affected — too  much  to  allow  me  to  write.   I  was 


'  In  1877  I  was  in  Washington,  and  in  company  with  Judge  McCallis- 
ter  visited  the  Department  of  State.  The  Judge  conversed  for  a  mo- 
ment with  an  intelligent,  well-dressed  colored  man,  who  was  the  messen- 
ger. Calling  to  me  he  said  :  *'  Mr,  Smith,  here  is  a  Georgian."  Giving 
the  young  man  my  hand  cordially,  I  said:  "You  are  a  Georgian  ?  " 
"Yes,  sir."  "  Where  from  ?  "  "  Oxford,  sir."  *' Why,  Oxford  is 
my  old  home.  Who  was  your  master ? "  '*  Bishop  Andrew,"  "Is  it 
possible?  You  were  one  of  his  second  wife's  slaves  ?  "  "Oh,  no,  sir;  I 
was  Kitty's  son."  He  spoke  very  lovingly  of  the  Bishop  and  his  care 
for  him. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


315 


unwilling  to  add  to  your  grief,  and  I  had  no  word  of 
consolation  to  offer.  The  solaces  of  religion  were 
yours  already  so  far  as  nature  could  submit  to  receive 
them,  and  if  they  had  not  been  I  was  not  in  a  state 
of  mind  to  suggest  them  to  another,  or  to  very  fully 
receive  them  myself.  It  was  only  two  days  previous 
to  the  anniversary  of  the  darkest  era  of  my  own  life 
that  I  got  the  intelligence  of  your  sad  bereavement, 
and  the  near  concurrence  filled  me  with  such  a  sense 
of  my  own  irreparable  loss  that  I  hardly  understood 
the  character  of  the  agitating  emotions  that  swelled 
my  heart  almost  to  breaking — whether  they  sprung 
from  sympathy  or  selfishness.  And  now  my  eyes  are 
darkened  by  tears  which  I  cannot  control.  My 
sense  of  my  own  sorrow  almost  suppresses  all  other 
feehngs,  yet  I  wept  for  the  loss  of  dear  Sister  Andrew, 
for  you  and  your  half-orphaned  children.  I  wept, 
and  still  weep,  and  only  find  some  rehef  from  such 
sorrow  as  I  seldom  experience  by  carrying  your 
griefs  and  others'  and  mine  to  the  compassionate 
Saviour  who  careth  for  you,  who  is  very  compas- 
sionate, who  can  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  own 
infirmities,  and  who  assuredly  will,  though  it  may 
be  after  days  of  heartrending  agony,  appear  for  our 
healing  and  comfort,  who  will  cause  a  saving  balm  to 
flow  in  upon  the  wounded  spirit,  even  from  the  dregs 
of  the  bitter  cup  of  which  we  are  called  to  drink.  Do 
not  infer  from  my  strange  way  of  feeling  and  writing 
that  I  am  not  very  much  alive  to  your  great  loss.  I 
ought  to  be  able  to  speak  as  a  comforter,  as  I  trust  I 
am  recognized  by  you  in  the  character  of  a  brother 
and  friend.  If  I  had  possessed  more  piety,  more 
faith,  I  should  long  since  have  found  resignation  and 


3i6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


settled  composure  under  God's  dealings  with  me,  and 
have  derived  from  them  some  lessons  of  submission 
and  experience  which  might  be  blessed  to  the  assuag- 
ing of  the  grief  of  other  sufferers.  It  is  not  so  with 
me.  I  can  only  suffer  with  you — I  cannot  offer  com- 
fort. I  am  ashamed  to  write  in  this  way  to  you, 
overwhelmed  as  I  know  you  are  with  sorrow,  and 
wish  I  had  not  begun ;  but  I  could  not  delay  any 
longer,  though  I  feared  to  trust  myself.  Well,  God 
has  taken  our  better  parts  to  Himself  and  left  us  with 
but  a  poor  excuse  for  leaving  this  world.  He  has 
firmly  shut  us  up  to  the  one  work  of  serving  Him  and 
getting  to  heaven,  which  is  all  the  dearer  and  more 
attractive  for  the  precious  gems  it  has  snatched  from 
us.  The  compassionate  Saviour  will  not  be  dis- 
pleased, I  think,  if  we  labor  and  long  for  that  resting- 
place  the  more  diligently  and  intensely,  because  in 
addition  to  the  bliss  of  being  forever  with  the  Lord 
we  also  covet  a  re-union  with  those  whom  the  im- 
pulses of  both  nature  and  grace  have  taught  us  to 
love  only  less  than  His  adorable  Self. 

I  look  back  upon  my  long  acquaintance  with 
your  sainted  wife  with  lively  sensibility,  and  shall  not 
cease  to  remember  her  kindness  to  me  when  I  was  a 
member  of  your  family  nearly  twenty  years  ago.  I 
was  in  bad  health,  generally  sick,  and  she  felt  for  and 
did  for  me  all  that  an  own  sister  could  feel  and  do, 
and  from  that  time  she  has  seemed  to  me  something 
more  than  a  common  friend.  On  my  return  from 
abroad,  solitary,  heart-broken,  stricken  of  God,  one  of 
the  first  messages  of  sympathy  and  greetings  of  wel- 
come m€t  me  in  the  form  of  a  kind  letter  from  dear 
Sister  Andrew.    I  remember  well  how  directly  it 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  317 

went  to  my  heart,  and  made  me  feel  beyond  any  cir- 
cumstance that  I  now  recollect  that  I  was  again  at 
home,  that  I  had  friends  still  though  I  had  lost  my 
all.  The  memory  of  these  things  is  precious  to  me 
now  that  God  has  taken  her  to  Himself,  and  I  will  re- 
member the  message  she  sent  by  you  in  your  previ- 
ous letter,  that  '  though  we  should  meet  no  more  on 
earth  we  should  in  heaven.'  Through  the  strength 
of  Christ  I  will  meet  her  there.  Yes,  my  brother,  you 
will  labor  and  gather  many  stars  for  your  crown,  and 
I  shall  wait  in  the  midst  of  my  infirmities,  doing 
nothing  but  still  looking  for  the  Lord's  coming,  with 
my  lamp  trimmed,  and  in  the  end  we  shall  all — yours 
and  mine,  you  and  I — meet  in  heaven.  Glory  to  God 
for  this  blessed  hope,  this  only  antidote. 

S.  Olin.'* 

Bishop  Morris  wrote : 

*' Cincinnati,  Ohio,  June  28,  1842. 

My  Dear  Brother  : 

It  is  a  long  time  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  re- 
ceiving a  letter  from  you,  but  this  only  reminds  me 
of  my  own  delinquency  as  a  correspondent.  It  would 
afford  me  much  pleasure  at  any  time  to  hear  from  you, 
and  especially  now  when  we  are  both  drinking  the 
bitter  cup  of  sorrow.  I  have  for  some  time  been  con- 
versant with  your  heavy  family  afflictions,  so  far  as 
they  have  been  made  public,  which  remind  me  of  the 
saying :  '  The  same  afflictions  are  accomplished  in 
your  brethren  that  are  in  the  world.'  I  have  read 
with  deep  interest  the  biographical  sketch  of  Sister 
Andrew  published  in  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate ^ 
and,  while  I  feel  much  sympathy  for  you  and  your 
children,  I  am  thankful  that  one  so  generally  and 


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The  Life  and  Letters  of 


favorably  known  in  the  Southern  division  of  the  Church 
was  made  the  chosen  subject  of  supporting  grace  in 
the  season  of  affliction,  and  especially  in  the  last  try- 
ing hour. 

"We,  too,  have  been  called  to  drink  deeply  of  the 
cup  of  affliction  and  sorrow.  Our  family  has  not 
been  free  from  sickness  one  hour  since  last  October, 
nor  has  any  member,  except  my  unworthy  self,  es- 
caped severe  illness.  Some  of  them  have  recovered, 
but  my  daughter  is  even  now  in  a  low  and  critical 
state  of  health.  Her  husband  is  much  indisposed, 
and  their  youngest  son  has  been  dangerously  ill  for 
three  months  and  will  probably  not  be  able  to  en- 
dure his  sufferings  much  longer.  It  is  six  weeks 
to-day  since  my  beloved  wife  (for  a  full  account 
of  her  case  see  Ladies'  Repository  of  June)  was 
mercifully  released  by  death  from  her  severe  and  pro- 
tracted sufferings,  and  they  have  appeared  longer  to 
me  than  any  twelve  weeks  of  my  previous  life.  No 
tongue  can  tell  or  pen  record  what  she  endured,  and 
the  thought  that  she  is  at  rest  from  all  her  sickness, 
pain,  and  sorrow  forever  is  to  me  cause  for  gratitude. 
Still  I  need  not  say  to  you,  who  have  experienced  the 
same,  that  it  is  a  sore  trial.  In  her  I  have  lost  my 
best  earthly  friend,  the  one  to  whom  I  was  under 
more  obligations  than  to  any  other  human  being.  To 
be  deprived  of  her  sympathy,  example,  counsel,  and 
prayers  is  a  real  loss — a  loss  so  great  that  though  I 
have  been  expecting  and  trying  to  prepare  for  it  for 
months,  it  was  with  difficulty,  for  a  time,  that  I  could 
realize  it.  Into  whatever  room  of  the  house  I  entered 
after  her  interment,  for  days  I  involuntarily  looked  to 
see  her  familiar  form,  and  as  I  recover  from  this  de- 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


319 


lusion  the  thought  that  I  shall  see  her  no  more  on  earth 
falls  like  the  night  of  death  upon  my  sinking  heart.  I 
am  not  in  the  habit  of  speaking  thus  among  the 
brethren,  but  you  are  prepared  to  appreciate  the 
liberty  I  use,  and  a  free  expression  of  my  thoughts 
seems  to  relieve  my  own  feelings.  Thank  God,  I  do 
not  sorrow  as  they  who  have  no  hope,  and  when  I  re- 
sume fully  my  appropriate  work  I  trust  I  shall  feel 
still  more  relieved. 

"  I  expect  to  leave  this  week  on  my  summer  and  fall 
term  of  Conference  appointments,  and  shall  be  under 
a  heavy  press  of  business  and  travel  till  November. 
I  should  be  glad  to  hear  from  you  at  Wheeling,  Va., 
by  July  20th,  or  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  by  the  first  week 
in  August,  or  at  any  subsequent  Conference.  It  may 
be  proper  for  me  to  say  to  you,  before  you  leave  for 
the  Tennessee  Conference,  that  my  Conference  claim 
hereafter  will  be  $6.82. 

It  is  matter  of  regret  that  the  brethren  in  Virginia 
did  not  leave  off  strife  before  proceeding  to  such 
length,  though  you  have  good  reason  to  feel  perfectly 
easy  so  far  as  you  are  concerned.  Whether  it  was  or 
was  not  expedient  to  make  the  changes  which  have 
caused  such  needless  excitement  about  Richmond  is  a 
question  which  brethren  at  a  distance,  and,  of  course, 
without  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  facts  of  the  case, 
do  not  seem  inclined  to  form  any  judgment  on.  But 
that  your  act  was  fully  covered  by  law  no  intelligent 
brother  in  this  country  doubts,  so  far  as  I  have  learned 
their  opinion,  and  your  prudence  in  declining  any 
part  in  the  newspaper  discussion,  beyond  a  simple 
statement  of  what  you  did  and  why  you  did  it,  turns 
the  scale  still  more  in  your  favor. 


320  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

"Please  remember  me  kindly  to  the  brethren  of 
your  neighborhood,  pray  for  me  and  accept  the  as- 
surance of  my  solicitation  and  prayers  for  yourself  and 
family. 

Yours  with  much  esteem  and  affection  in  Chris- 
tian bonds, 

**Tho.  a.  Morris.'* 

But  not  a  flower  was  laid  upon  the  grave  of  the 
sainted  wife  which  was  so  sweet  as  this  tribute  paid  by 
Hennie  to  her  mother  : 

ON  A  MOTHER'S  DEATH. 

'Twas  holy  Sabbath  morn,  bright,  beautiful, 

And  o'er  the  earth's  soft  dress  of  tender  green 

The  April  sun  rose  with  bright,  beaming  smiles, 

Flooding  the  landscape  with  his  golden  light 

As  if  t*  enhance  the  charms  his  warming  rays 

Had  drawn  from  earth's  late  cold  and  dormant  bosom. 

No  sound  was  heard  save  hum  of  murmuring  bee, 

Or  mock-bird's  silver  note,  as  'mong  the  flowers 

He  flitted  merrily  from  bough  to  bough. 

Scattering  a  rosy  shower.    And  blent  with  these 

Came  floating  softly  on  the  gentle  air 

The  church  bell's  solemn  tones. 

There  was  a  chamber  near  the  village  church 

Where  a  fond  mother  bade  farewell  to  all 

That  earth  held  dearest  ;  and  as  peal  on  peal 

Stole  through  the  open  casement,  'twas  to  her 

The  welcome  summons  to  a  heavenly  rest. 

She  had  in  childhood  given  herself  to  God  ; 

In  womanhood  her  hand  and  heart  were  join'd 

With  one  who  was  commissioned  to  go  forth 

And  bear  the  gospel  standard.    To  his  trust 

He  had  been  faithful.    And  as  he  had  given 

His  life  to  that  high  mission,  she  had  hers. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


321 


The  blessed  cause  lay  nearest  to  her  heart, 
And  all  that  woman  in  her  quiet  sphere 
May  do  was  done  to  aid  the  glorious  object. 
Trials  which  those  alone  can  know  who  fill 
Her  station  had  been  hers. 

*  *        «        *        «  « 

«  *  «  <K  *  41 

*  «c  «  41  4e  41 

And  there  were,  too, 
Other  strong  ties  which  wound  more  closely  round  her 
As  life's  last  threads  were  slowly  disuniting. 
Beside  her  couch  was  he  who  for  so  long 
Had,  as  her  life,  been  dear — who  ever  through 
All  scenes  of  joy  or  woe,  had  been  the  same 
Kind,  tender  friend,  on  whom  her  heart  could  lean, 
And  find  fond  sympathy.    Oh  !  'twas  a  grief, 
A  bitter  grief,  to  leave  that  cherished  one  ! 
And  there  were  other  children  too — some  who 
Had  learned  to  buffet  with  the  storms  of  life, 
And  some  too  small  to  feel  their  loss.    The  babe, 
Which  played  and  laughed  within  the  arms  of  her 
On  whom  would  soon  devolve  the  mother's  cares. 
Had  seen  scarce  half  a  year — her  only  son, 
The  mother's  love  clung  strongly  to  the  child. 
Long,  painful,  had  the  struggle  been,  indeed. 
But  it  had  been  successful.    Every  tie 
The  dying  saint  had  yielded.    She  now  gazed 
"With  angel's  vision  far  beyond  the  tomb. 
It  was  too  bright  a  scene  for  silent  joy ; 
And  ever  and  anon  for  many  days, 
Had  the  weak  body  seized  the  spirit's  strength. 
And  raised  the  joyful  shout :  '  To  God  be  glory, 
And  to  the  Lamb,  who  died  that  I  might  live* 
And  even  now,  when  breath  came  gaspingly, 
14* 


322 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


The  sweet,  ecstatic  joy  of  perfect  peace, 

Was  manifest  in  few,  short,  earnest  words. 

Oh  !  who  could  doubt  that  heavenly  hosts  were  nigh, 

E'en  mingling  with  us,  rouTid  that  bed  of  death? 

And  when  the  breath  had  passed,  and  lifeless  sunk 

The  clayey  temple,  glorious  angel  forms, 

It  seemed  to  me,  were  almost  visible 

To  mortal  eyes,  as  on  their  rain-bow  wings, 

They  upward  bore  their  sister  spirit  home  ! 

In  the  first  moment  of  the  spirit's  change, 

I  thought  that  there  were  happy  meetings  too 

With  loved  ones  gone  before,  who  formed  a  guard 

To  escort  her  to  their  blissful  home  above." 

In  August,  1841,  Hennie  had  married  Thomas  M. 
Merriwether.  He  was  a  young  man  from  one  of  the 
best  Georgia  families.  David  Merriwether,  his  grand- 
father, had  been  one  of  the  leading  men  and  one  of  the 
first  Methodists  in  the  State.  Thomas  was  a  young 
man  of  fine  mind,  good  education,  and  solid  piety,  and 
well  to  do  in  the  world.  The  father  could  not  have 
been  more  gratified  at  a  marriage.  The  two  young 
people  took  charge  of  Chestnut  Grove,  which  the  hus- 
band purchased,  while  Lizzie  and  the  little  ones  re- 
mained at  Oxford.  It  had  been  a  long  dreary  vacation 
from  his  Episcopal  work,  and  he  was  ready  for  his 
tour  which  called  him  again  to  the  far  West.  Leaving 
Oxford  in  his  carriage,  he  made  his  way  over  the 
mountains  to  Athens,  Ala.,  where  the  Tennessee  Con- 
ference met,  and  from  thence  rode  into  the  little  town 
of  Holly  Springs  on  Tuesday  afternoon,  ready  for  his 
week's  work  as  President  of  the  Memphis  Conference 
— which  began  the  next  day.  He  snatched  time  to 
write  a  letter  to  his  new  son-in-law,  Thomas  M.  Mer- 
riwether, and  says  :     I  trust  you  are  all  getting  along 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


323 


well  temporally  and  spiritually  ;  be  sure,  my  dear  chil- 
dren, to  live  very  near  to  God,  cultivate  constantly 
a  spirit  of  closet  piety  and  your  public  acts  will  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  grace  of  God.  Never  be  satisfied 
without  enjoying  every  day  the  peace  and  blessing  of 
God  in  your  own  hearts.  Remember  that  life  is  only 
valuable  as  it  is  used  to  prepare  for  a  glorious  here- 
after." 

From  the  Memphis  he  went  to  the  Arkansas  Con- 
ference. Returning,  he  attended  the  Mississippi  and 
Alabama  Conferences,  and  traveled  across  the  State  of 
Georgia  down  to  Savannah,  where  the  Georgia  Con- 
ference met.  He  was  not  at  the  opening,  but  was  in 
time  to  preside  over  the  closing  sessions  and  make  the 
appointments.  He  had  traveled  all  this  distance,  in 
the  five  months  of  his  absence,  in  private  conveyance. 
He  preached  constantly  as  he  went.  Work  was  not 
only  his  duty,  but  was  a  relief  from  sorrow.  His 
preaching  was  full  of  simple  earnestness,  but  it  is  not 
a  matter  for  surprise  that  he  was  no  longer  the  grandly 
eloquent  declaimer  he  had  been.  The  testimony, 
however,  of  those  who  heard  him  was  that  his  preach- 
ing was  replete  with  power. 

His  tour  ended  at  Savannah,  and  he  hastened  back 
to  Oxford.  The  home  was  a  desolate  one,  and  the 
returning  hour,  when  he  knew  she  would  meet  him 
no  more,  was  sorrowful  enough  ;  but  Elizabeth  was 
there,  and  so  were  the  little  ones,  and  it  was  still  home. 
He  remained  there  for  some  months,  and  we  may  be 
sure  did  much  work. 

During  the  early  part  of  this  year  Bishop  Roberts 
died,  and  Bishop  Soule  wrote  him  requesting  him  to 
preside  over  some  of  Bishop  Roberts'  Conferences  in 


324 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  far  West.  He  consented  to  do  so  in  the  following 
letter : 

**  Oxford,  Ga.,  May  17,  1843. 

" My  Dear  Bishop: 

"  I  received  your  favor  a  few  days  since  and  wrote 
almost  immediately  to  Brother  Wright,  requesting 
him  to  insert  a  notice  in  the  Advocate  that  I  will,  God 
willing,  attend  the  Indiana  Conference.  I  wish  I 
could  have  been  home  to  assist  you  at  some  other  of 
your  Conferences,  as  I  am  not  without  some  ap- 
prehension that  such  a  long  string  of  Conferences  in 
succession  will  prove  rather  too  heavy  a  tax  upon 
your  strength.  Such,  however,  are  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  my  family  that  I  fear  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  leave  home  before  the  first  of  August.  I  was 
glad  to  see  from  the  papers  that  your  health  w^as  so 
greatly  improved  by  your  European  trip.  I  trust 
your  return  to  your  own  country  has  produced  no 
deterioration  in  that  respect,  but  rather  that  your 
health  is  steadily  improving.  You  have  a  heavy  work 
before  you  during  the  next  six  or  eight  months.  May 
the  Lord  abundantly  strengthen  you  for  its  toils  and 
cares ! 

It  is  a  sore  trial  for  me  to  leave  home  for  so  long 
a  time  as  I  shall  be  obliged  to  do  in  my  next  tour.  To 
leave  my  motherless  little  ones  is  doubly  trying  now, 
when  she  in  whose  wisdom,  prudence,  and  piety  I 
could  place  the  most  undoubting  confidence,  is  no 
longer  with  them  to  guide.  But  the  will  of  God  is  good, 
and  I  would  uncomplainingly  submit,  trusting  all  to 
Him  in  whose  hand  are  the  destinies  of  men  and  angels. 
The  burdens  and  responsibihties  of  the  Episcopal 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


325 


office  I  have  always  felt  too  heavy  for  me  to  bear,  but 
never  have  they  pressed  so  heavily  upon  my  heart  as 
during  my  last  tour  of  Conferences.  Other  men,  con- 
stituted differently,  may  perhaps  sustain  it  better,  but 
I  suffer  so  much  anxiety  that  my  health  almost  com- 
pletely gives  way  in  one  or  two  instances.  This 
circumstance,  taken  in  connection  with  an  abiding 
consciousness  of  my  own  want  of  quahfication,  has  led 
me  to  indulge  pretty  serious  thoughts  of  resigning  my 
charge  and  returning  to  the  ranks  in  an  Annual  Con- 
ference. The  state  of  the  Church,  too,  afflicts  me. 
The  Abolition  excitement,  I  fear,  has  never  presented 
an  aspect  so  threatening  to  the  union  of  the  Church 
as  it  does  at  this  moment.  May  the  good  Lord  over- 
rule all  for  the  ultimate  furtherance  of  His  own 
glorious  cause.  I  look  forward  to  the  next  General 
Conference  with  very  little  apprehension.  The  vacancy 
occasioned  by  the  removal  of  the  venerable  and  be- 
loved Roberts  must  be  filled,  and,  with  the  necessary 
enlargement  of  the  work,  some  additional  strength 
must  be  added  to  the  Episcopacy  or  the  work  must 
run  down,  or  at  least  suffer  very  materially  now.  The 
thing  must  be  done,  and  yet  I  dread  the  result.  The 
policy  of  the  majority  of  the  General  Conference  on 
this  subject,  I  think,  is  fully  settled,  and  I  greatly 
doubt  whether  the  South  will  longer  submit  to  this 
avowed  proscription.    What  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

Before  he  began  his  tour,  Elizabeth,  who  had  been 
his  housekeeper,  and  who  had  had  care  of  the  Httle 
ones,  married  Robert  W.  Lovett,  a  young  graduate  of 
the  college.  He  was,  like  Merriwether,  of  a  capital 
Methodist  family — a  young  man  of  good  mind  and  of 
deep  piety.    He  afterward  became  a  physician  and  a 


326  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


local  preacher,  and  is  still  living — a  warm  friend  and 
supporter  of  the  Church,  with  two  sons,  children  of 
Elizabeth,  in  the  South  Georgia  Conference.  The 
Bishop's  correspondence  with  his  children  was  very- 
constant  and  sprightly. 

His  own  Episcopal  District,  for  1843,  embraced  the 
frontier  Conferences,  and  called  for  long  and  weary- 
traveling.  He  left  home  in  August,  and  went  by- 
stage  to  Nashville,  leaving  Oxford  in  the  stage-coach. 
He  says :  I  was  in  the  stage  alone  with  a  fine  op- 
portunity for  indulging  those  melancholy  feehngs 
which  always  oppress  my  heart  when  called  away 
from  home  and  those  precious  loved  ones  who  are 
there.  Let  none  ask  whether  I  have  not  yet  become 
accustomed  to  leaving  home.  No  ;  I  never  shall  be — 
no,  never  !  It  is  as  painful  now  as  at  the  first,  and 
will  never  become  less  so  ;  but  I  am  God's  servant ;  to 
his  service  I  have  consecrated  my  heart  and  my  life, 
and  my  strength  he  knows  best.  God  is  everywhere  : 
this  is  my  comfort." 

He  passed  through  Marietta,  Georgia,  which  was 
even  then  a  thrifty  village  with  four  churches,  and  on 
through  Cassville  to  Rome.  He  reached  Decatur,  Ala., 
by  Saturday  noon,  preached  at  a  camp-meeting  on 
Sunday,  and  then  went  to  Nashville  where  he  found  a 
pleasant  home  with  his  old  friend  Hill.  "  Nashville,"  he 
says,  "  was  a  pleasant  little  city  of  some  twelve  thou- 
sand inhabitants.  It  was  a  place,  too,  of  considerable 
trade.  The  Methodists  had  one  large  church  called 
McKendree,  and  another  on  what  was  called  College 
side."  The  city  had  improved  a  good  deal  since  his 
first  visit,  and  would  probably,  he  thought,  continue 
to  do  so  for  some  time. 


Jmnes  Osgood  Andrezv. 


327 


From  Nashville  he  went  down  the  Cumberland  to 
Smithland.  He  reached  St.  Louis,  and,  in  company 
with  J.  F.  Wright,  the  agent  of  the  Western  Book 
Concern  at  Cincinnati,  he  began  his  journeyings  to 
the  upper  Mississippi. 

The  Rock  River  Conference,  over  which  he  was  to 
preside,  included  Iowa  and  Wisconsin  Territories,  and 
a  part  of  Illinois,  and  in  all  this  section  there  were 
then  but  15,000  members.    It  was  to  meet  this  year 
at  Dubuque,  Iowa,  on  the  upper  Mississippi.  To 
reach  it  they  started  on  a  steamer  for  Keokuk,  and 
then  took  coach  for  Burlington.     Although  in  the 
Territory  they  were  still  three  hundred  miles  from 
the  Conference.    They  passed  by  Nauvoo  where  the 
Mormons  had  their  temple — thence  on  the  steamboat 
again  and  through  a  beautiful  country  to  Dubuque. 
He  was  several  days  behind  time,  but  was  ready  for 
the  Sunday  ordinations  after  Conference  closed.  From 
Dubuque  he  went  by  the  river  again  from  Galena  to 
the  rapids  and  around  them  to  Keokuk,  and  thence 
down  the  river  to  Quincy,  111.     Here  he  presided 
over  the  Illinois  Conference,  in  which  there  had  been 
great  prosperity  during  the  year.    He  now  began  his 
journey  by  land  to  Lexington,  Mo.,  where  he  met  the 
Missouri  Conference.     Where  there  are  now  three 
Conferences,  there  was  then  only  one,  and  it  was  quite 
feeble.    Here  he  became  for  the  first  time  acquainted 
with  a  promising  young  man  who  was  sent  to  the 
Liberty  Circuit — Enoch  M.  Marvin,  and  here  began, 
on  Marvin's  part  at  least,  that  deep  love  which  grew 
with  all  the  years  and  which  the  Bishop  so  heartily 
returned. 

From  Lexington  he  went  down  the  Missouri  to  St. 


328 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Louis,  where  he  was  the  guest  of  his  friend  and 
brother,  Gay,  and,  on  the  morning  of  October  I2th, 
away  again,  and  this  time  eastwardly  across  the  State  of 
lUinois,  to  Crawfordsville,  Ind.  The  immense  change 
which  has  taken  place  in  forty  years  in  the  whole 
country,  and  the  difficulties  of  travel,  are  brought  out 
very  strikingly  in  his  letters  published  in  the  Southern 
Christian  Advocatey3ind  afterward  in  his  ''Miscellanies." 

The  Indiana  Conference  was  to  meet  in  Crawfords- 
ville, and  so,  leaving  St.  Louis  by  stage,  he  began  his 
journey  to  it.  The  mounds  which  give  St.  Louis  the 
name  of  the  Mound  City,  and  the  boulders  on  the 
prairies,  excited  his  attention  and  aroused  his  curiosity. 
The  glacier  and  iceberg  theory  was  not  so  generally  re- 
ceived then  as  now  and  those  puzzles  of  the  geologists, 
huge  granite  boulders,  lying  detached  on  the  surface 
of  wide  stoneless  prairies,  were  without  even  a  plausi- 
ble hypothesis  to  explain  their  presence.  The  coun- 
try was  most  of  it  uncultivated  and  uninviting.  The 
stage  moved  slowly  on  its  way,  and  on  Friday  the 
travelers  reached  Terra  Haute,  Ind.,  and  finding  good 
quarters,  they  decided  to  remain  there  till  Monday. 
Terra  Haute  contained  then  about  twenty-five  hundred 
inhabitants.  He  preached  twice  in  the  little  city,  and 
on  Monday  left  for  Greencastle,  the  seat  of  the  Indiana 
Asbury  University.  Matthew  Simpson,  now  Bishop, 
was  President.  Bishop  Andrew  says  :  ''I  cannot  but 
anticipate  a  bright  future  for  the  Indiana  Asbury  Uni- 
versity." Leaving  Greencastle,  he  reached  Crawfords- 
ville by  stage,  and  presided  for  the  last  time  over  the 
Indiana  Conference.  He  says :  '*We  had  no  jarring 
notes  making  discord  among  us,  and  although  the  Con- 
ference was  one  of  the  largest  in  the  connection,  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


329 


work  was  finished  in  a  week's  time  The 

preachers,  the  most  of  them,  seem  to  be  comparatively- 
young  men,  and  animated,  as  I  think  them  to  be  by  the 
right  spirit,  the  Church  has  much  to  hope  from  them. 
Upon  the  whole,  I  must  say,  very  fine  fellows  those 
Hoosiers." 

The  Conference  he  had  just  presided  over  was  a 
very  large  one.  There  were- sixteen  districts  supplied 
with  preachers.  Thirty-one  preachers  were  admitted 
on  trial,  and  there  were  67,447  members  in  the  Con- 
ference. He  now  turned  his  face  toward  Cincinnati, 
from  whence  he  expected  to  start  with  his  old  friend 
Wright  to  the  Arkansas  Conference.  After  some  de- 
lay they  left  Cincinnati  in  a  boat,  and  reached  Mont- 
gomery Point  on  the  Arkansas  River.  Some  of  the 
dreariest  pages  in  the  annals  of  Episcopal  travel  are 
those  which  tell  of  travel  in  Arkansas.  The  rich  val- 
leys along  the  river  banks  were  then  almost  trackless 
swamps.  To  pass  through  them  required  courage, 
strength,  and  patience. 

This  journey  was  made  with  great  difficulty.  On 
a  Mississippi  steamer  to  Montgomery's  Point,  now 
Helena,  thence  to  a  point  on  White  River  opposite 
Little  Rock,  and  sixty  miles  away  from  it — then 
through  the  mud  by  the  stage,  and  thence  by  a 
steamer,  which  ran  on  a  sand  bar,  with  a  river  falling ; 
and  then  on  foot  for  five  miles,  and  from  Dwight,  the 
Mission  station  of  the  Presbyterians,  to  Clarksville. 
This  was  his  third  visit  to  Arkansas. 

There  was  a  heroism  about  those  frontiersmen 
which  delighted  him.  There  was  nothing  he  had 
such  a  contempt  for  as  whining  over  hardship.  He 
never  did  it  himself,  and  he  therefore  disliked  it  in 


330 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


others.  The  Indian  Missions  were  in  the  Arkansas 
Conference  lines,  and  the  Bishop  was  displeased  with 
the  scanty  appropriation  made  to  fields  so  needy. 
He  did  not  hesitate  to  express  his  dissent  from  the 
course  the  Board  of  Managers,  as  the  Board  was  then 
called,  had  pursued.  The  Mission  work  lay  very 
near  his  heart,  especially  work  among  the  Indians  and 
the  negroes,  and  he  devised  large  things,  and  did  not 
take  it  well  when  a  less  sanguine  Board  put  on  the 
brakes.  He  now  descended  the  Mississippi,  stopped 
a  day  or  two  with  Bishop  Soule  in  Mississippi,  and 
went  on  to  New  Orleans,  on  his  way  to  Texas.  He 
reached  Galveston,  and  soon  met  his  young  friend, 
Thomas  O.  Summers,  who  tells  of  the  meeting : 

In  1839  I  received  from  the  Bishops  and  Board  of 
Managers  of  the  Missionary  Society,  an  appointment 
as  missionary  to  Buenos  Ayres.  Understanding  that 
I  was  willing  to  go  anywhere  as  a  missionary,  and  not 
knowing  that  I  was  appointed  to  Buenos  Ayres,  Bishop 
Andrew  appointed  me  to  Galveston — the  other  ap- 
pointment was  cancelled,  and  to  Galveston  I  went. 
In  1843,  Bishop  Andrew  came  to  Texas  to  hold  the 
Texas  Conference.  I  had  returned  from  the  United 
States  reduced  to  a  skeleton  by  yellow  fever  and  its 
relapses.  The  Bishop  found  me  in  Galveston,  and  dis- 
suaded me  from  going  to  Conference,  but  go  I  would. 
We  went  to  Houston  in  a  rickety  steamboat,  which 
gave  the  Bishop  some  concern,  as  it  seemed  not  un- 
likely that  we  should  go  to  the  bottom  of  Galveston 
Bay.  But  we  reached  Houston  safe,  if  not  sound.  I 
had  another  relapse,  and  the  Bishop  said  he  was  in- 
clined to  say  with  authority  that  I  should  not  proceed 
to  Conference.    I  replied,  that  if  he  did  say  so  I 


y antes  Osgood  Andrew. 


331 


must  submit,  as  a  son  in  the  gospel,  but  that  I  in- 
tended to  start  the  next  day,  and  would  beat  him  to 
Conference,  if  I  could.  Seeing  me  thus  resolute,  he 
yielded.  I  told  Brother  Charles  Shearn — a  noble 
man,  and  devoted  friend — to  get  three  horses,  one  for 
the  Bishop,  one  for  himself,  and  one  for  me — which 
he  did.  They  put  me  on  my  steed,  with  medicines, 
etc. ,  and  on  we  went,  about  sixty  miles  on  Jiorseback^ 
by  ivater — as  the  country  was  overflowed  with  a  flood. 
The  Bishop  and  I  had  to  lie  at  night  in  a  muddy,  damp 
place,  which  one  would  think  would  cost  us  our  lives. 
But  we  got  to  Father  Robinson's,  in  Montgomery 
County,  where  the  Conference  was  to  be  held.  The 
Bishop  presided,  in  primitive  style,  which  he  seemed 
to  enjoy.  I  did  all  the  work  of  Secretary  of  Confer- 
ence and  of  the  Missionary  Society — and  besides  I 
took  down  the  Bishop's  charge,  which  I  thought  the 
best  I  had  heard,  and  I  know  not  that  he  ever  excelled 
it.  It  was  pubhshed  in  one  of  the  church  papers — in 
New  York,  Cincinnati,  or  Charleston — I  forget  which. 
I  have  no  copy,  as  my  papers  were  destroyed  by  the 
invading  army,  and  by  the  publishing  house  fire. 
And  here  I  may  say  that  I  had  consumed  a  valuable 
collection  of  manuscripts  of  the  Wesleys — father,  and 
his  sons  — Coke,  Asbury,  Clarke,  McKendree,  Soule, 
Andrew,  and  others — together  with  many  of  my  own. 

"  Take  when  thou  wilt  into  thy  hands, 
And  as  thou  wilt  require  ! 
Resume  by  the  Chaldean  bands, 
And  the  devouring  fire! 

"  I  had  a  voracious,  morbid  appetite  at  that  Con- 
ference, which  greatly  interested  the  good  Bishop.  I 
thought  it  no  good  omen — nor  was  it. 


332 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


No  one  accompanied  the  Bishop  and  I  on  our  re- 
turn to  Houston.  The  Conference  wished  to  send 
me  to  the  General  Conference  of  1844,  but  I  declined 
election,  as  I  was  about  to  return  to  the  United 
States,  to  join  the  Alabama  Conference.  The  con- 
sequence was  a  Northern  man  was  sent,  and,  when 
the  tug  of  war  came,  he  took  sides  against  Bishop 
Andrew  in  the  memorable  trial." 

Homer  S.  Thrall,  the  indomitable  frontiersman,  who 
still  abides,  and  is  still  on  the  outer  line,  says  of  this 
visit : 

In  the  exercise  of  his  Episcopal  functions  Bishop 
Andrew  five  times  visited  Texas  :  in  1843,  1849,  1850, 
1852,  i860,  and  in  1865.  At  his  first  visitation,  ex- 
cept a  few  appointments  on  Red  River,  the  whole 
Republic  was  included  in  the  Texas  Conference. 
During  the  Fall  of  that  year,  floods  of  rain  fell  in  all 
parts  of  Texas,  rendering  it  almost  impossible  to  tra- 
verse the  lower  portions  of  the  country.  My  own 
field  of  labor  was  near  the  coast,  and  I  scarcely  made 
a  round  upon  my  circuit  without  having  to  swim,  and 
to  reach  Conference  had  to  make  long  detours  and 
swim  innumerable  creeks  and  bayous.  When  Bishop 
Andrew^  arrived  at  Houston,  he  was  assured  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  try  to  reach  the  seat  of  the  Con- 
ference ;  but  he  answered  that  it  would  be  time  for  a 
Methodist  preacher  to  stop  when  he  could  go  no 
farther.  In  company  with  T.  O.  Summers  he  started, 
and  by  tall  wading,  some  swimming,  and  the  use  of 
flat  boats  and  rafts,  they  made  the  trip.  In  telling  us 
about  his  difficulties  the  Bishop  referred  to  an  inci- 
dent in  the  life  of  Bishop  Soule,  who,  once,  when  en- 
countering similar  difficulties  in  almost  impassable 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  333 

swamps,  was  assured  by  his  traveling  companion  that 
further  progress  was  impossible  through  the  appar> 
ently  interminable  morasses.  The  Bishop  pointed  to 
the  tracks  in  the  road  and  declared  that  where  others 
had  come  he  could  go,  and  they  proceeded  on  their 
journey  and  reached  their  destination. 

Conference  met  December  13,  1843,  at  a  place 
known  as  Robinson's  settlement,  in  a  church  named 
*  Martha  Chapel,'  from  Mrs.  Martha  Robinson,  a 
venerable  matriarch  of  the  neighborhood ;  but  as  it 
was  near  the  Trinity  River,  Dr.  Summers,  our  Secre- 
tary, gave  it  the  name  of  *  Trinity,'  and  so  it  appears 
in  the  minutes.  At  this  session  Brother  Summers 
was  transferred  to  Alabama  and  left  with  the  Bishop. 
In  1840,  Bishop  Waugh  transferred  Abel  Stevens  back 
to  New  England,  and  thus  Texas  lost  two  of  the  most 
distinguished  writers  in  American  Methodism.  The 
wise  counsels  of  the  Bishop,  his  fatherly  manner  and 
deep  spirituality,  made  a  most  happy  impression  upon 
the  Texas  preachers,  and  they  went  promptly  and 
joyfully  to  their  various  fields  of  labor.  With  William 
S.  Hamilton,  of  blessed  memory,  I  was  assigned  to 
the  Egypt  Circuit,  which  then  embraced  a  good  por- 
tion of  eight  counties,  including  a  number  of  circuits 
and  stations  now  in  the  Texas  Conference,  and  the 
entire  occupied  territory  of  West  Texas  Conference, 
except  one  circuit  to  which  J.  W.  Devilbiss  was  sent. 
There  were  then  forty-one  itinerant  ministers  ;  fifty- 
five  local  preachers,  and  about  five  thousand  mem- 
bers in  Texas.  Four  elders'  districts  were  presided 
over  by  R.  Alexander,  Littleton  Fowler,  John  Clark, 
and  Francis  Wilson,  of  whom  the  venerable  Dr. 
Alexander  is  the  only  survivor,  and  he  is  a  feeble 


334  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

superannuate  waiting  in  faith  and  patience  for  his 
discharge." 

*'The  Conference  was  eighty  miles  from  Houston. 
They  could  reach  Houston  by  steamboat ;  then  they 
were  to  make  their  way  the  best  they  could.  They 
reached  Houston,  then  a  snug  little  city,  and  found  a 
brick  chapel,  which  had  been  built  by  the  labor  of 
young  Summers.  The  membership  was  not  large  nor 
wealthy.  Everybody  warned  them  not  to  make  an 
attempt  to  get  to  the  chapel,  but  it  was  his  duty  to 
try,  and  try  he  would.  So  they  started  in  the  rain, 
Summers,  Shearn,  an  English  gentleman,  and  the 
Bishop.  Summers  left  his  bed  to  go.  They  had  bor- 
rowed some  horses,  and  after  four  hours  travel,  or 
rather  ploughing  through  the  mud,  they  had  gone 
nine  miles.  Night  overtook  them  long  before  they 
reached  the  end  of  the  day's  journey.  The  whole 
prairie  was  inundated — the  water  was  up  to  the  knees 
of  their  horses,  and  sometimes  in  a  slough  their  own 
feet  were  covered.  The  stars  above  them  gave  all 
the  light  they  had,  and  "save  the  sound  of  our 
horses'  feet  splashing  in  the  water,  the  shrill  cry  of 
the  crane,  or  the  noise  of  numerous  flocks  of  wild 
geese  and  ducks,  which  were  startled  upon  our  ap- 
proach, there  was  no  sound  to  break  in  upon  the 
gloomy  silence  of  the  scene  around  us  ;  unless  we 
chose  to  keep  our  own  voices  employed,  which  we 
did  pretty  freely  by  way  of  cheering  each  other's 
spirits."  They  reached  the  tavern  at  last,  and  found 
a  kind  welcome  from  a  clever  hostess.  Through  dif- 
ficulties of  this  sort  they  pressed  on  until  they  met 
the  brave  body  of  Texans  in  Conference  at  Martha's 
Chapel.    There  were  four  districts,  and  four  thousand 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


335 


members.  Of  the  preachers  then  m  active  work  in 
Texas,  there  is  now  only  one  living — Homer  S. 
Thrall.  The  young  Englishman  was  plucky  enough, 
but  not  strong  enough  for  the  frontier,  and  so  the 
Bishop  took  him  with  him  to  Alabama,  where  he 
planted  him  in  Tuscaloosa.  From  Texas  he  came  as 
rapidly  as  possible  toward  Georgia,  and  early  in  Jan- 
uary he  reached  Oxford.  His  journey  had  been  ex- 
tensive and  wearying,  and  rest  was  sweet. 


336 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DIVISION  OF  THE  CHURCH. 
I 844-1 846. 

Second  Marriage, — Happy  Surroundings. — General  Conference  in  New 
York. — Excitement  on  the  Subject  of  his  Owning  Slaves, — Gen- 
eral Conference  Proceedings, — His  Speeches. — Passage  of  the  Fin- 
ley  Substitute, — Return  to  Georgia. — Resolution  of  Southern  Dele- 
gates.— Visitations. — Convention  at  Louisville. — Conference  Tour 
in  1845, — General  Conference  in  1846. 

BEFORE  Bishop  Andrew  went  to  the  West,  he 
had  made  an  engagement  to  marry  Mrs.  Leo- 
nora Greenwood,  of  Greensborough,  Ga.  The  condi- 
tion of  his  family,  and  his  long  absences  from  home, 
made  this  a  necessary  act ;  so,  without  undue  haste, 
and  with  great  discretion,  he  had  selected  a  second 
companion.  At  this  time  he  was  fifty  years  old,  and 
she  forty-five.  She  was  very  attractive  in  person, 
beautiful  in  manners,  gentle  in  spirit,  and  deeply, 
though  undemonstratively  pious.  She  was  by  no 
means  wealthy,  yet  possessed  a  few  family  slaves. 
These  slaves  could  easily  have  been  sold,  and  the 
money  invested  in  stocks,  would  have  freed  her  from 
the  care  and  anxiety  in  which  slaveholding  involved  a 
conscientious  owner,  and  Bishop  Andrew  might  have 
escaped  censure.  He  was  eminently  a  self-poised  man, 
always  acting  on  his  own  convictions,  and  fearlessly 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


337 


doing  what  he  believed  to  be  his  duty.  Not  for  a  mo- 
ment apprehending  any  serious  trouble  or  notoriety 
from  his  marriage,  he  had  not  the  remotest  idea  that 
the  step  would  be  the  occasion  of  widespread  church 
strife.  He  needed  a  wife,  and  Mrs.  Greenwood  suited 
him.  They  had  known  each  other  many  years.  He 
would  marry  her — and,  so,  marry  her  he  did. 

After  the  marriage  he  conveyed  to  his  wife,  in  due 
form  of  law,  all  the  rights  in  her  property  which  the 
fact  of  marriage  had  given  him  as  her  husband.  This 
was  done  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  her  and  her  chil- 
dren, and  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  having  been 
actuated  by  mercenary  motives.  Under  the  laws  of 
Georgia  in  force  at  this  time,  such  a  conveyance  would 
have  been  unnecessary,  for  the  woman's  property  at 
marriage  continues  to  be  her  own  after  that  occur- 
rence. When  Mrs.  Andrew  died  in  1854,  the  law  re- 
invested him  with  rights  in  this  same  property,  but 
he  promptly  dispossessed  himself  the  second  time, 
and  turned  it  all  over  to  her  children.  Mrs.  Andrew 
and  her  daughters,  Eliza  and  Carrie  Greenwood,  were 
taken  to  the  Oxford  home,  where  the  Bishop's 
*'  Broken  flower,"  and  younger  children  awaited  a 
mother's  tender  care.  The  darkened  home  again  be- 
came bright.  The  residence  was  large  and  beautifully 
situated  in  a  delightful  village — there  were  no  pecu- 
niary pressures — the  old  friends  were  near  by,  and 
above  all,  the  mistress  of  the  house,  an  exceedingly 
lovely  woman,  was  a  devoted  wife,  a  gentle  mother, 
and  an  agreeable  hostess.  Letters  of  congratulation 
poured  in  upon  him,  and  he  was  happy.  No  man 
could  have  had  less  expectation  of  the  storm  that  was 
soon  to  break  upon  him,  than  himself.  He  loved  his 
15 


338 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Northern  brethren  with  a  very  deep  affection — an  af- 
fection which  continued  tender  and  strong  until  death. 
He  rejoiced  in  the  strength  of  a  united  Methodism, 
and  deplored  any  agitation  in  either  section,  on  anyj 
subject  that  threatened  its  existence  or  impaired  its 
vigor.  He  would  not,  for  any  price,  especially  for 
such  a  one  as  holding  on  to  an  office  which  he  wished 
to  surrender  the  year  before,  have  done  anything  to 
produce  it. 

No  man  has  ever  charged  Bishop  Andrew  with  a 
breach  of  faith  ;  but  it  has  been  charged,  and  that, 
too,  by  one  who  loved  him  as  well  as  man  was  ever 
loved  by  man,  Stephen  Olin,  that  he  was  indiscreet ; 
and  more  than  one  has  said,  that  in  this  marriage  he 
erred  in  judgment,  and  by  this  error  divided  the 
Church.  It  is  assumed  that  but  for  the  Episcopacy 
having  become  by  his  act  involved  in  the  odium  of 
slave-holding,  that  the  slavery  question  could  hav* 
been  kept  where  it  had  been  for  many  years  gone  by, 
and  the  unity  of  the  Church  preserved.  It  is  true 
that  the  Church  did  divide  in  1844;  it  is  true  that  he 
was  called  to  account  for  holding  slaves  ;  it  is  true 
that  his  wife  did  own  slaves  when  he  married  her ; 
but  that  his  marriage  affected  the  division  of  the 
Church  is  denied.  That  he  had  any  reason  to  sup- 
pose it  would  cause  strife  is  denied.  He  did  have 
some  apprehension  that  a  few  extremists  might  object 
to  it,  but  it  was  an  apprehension  which  seemed  to 
have  so  little  foundation  in  probability  that  his  friends 
smiled  at  it.  His  most  partial  friend  must  admit  that 
if  he  had  known  the  excitement  which  followed  his 
marriage,  and  had  had  any  reason  to  have  supposed 
it  would  have  bqen  prevented  by  his  resignation, 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  339 


that  before  his  marriage  that  resignation  would  have 
been  decided  upon.  No  man  of  proper  feehng  will 
say  that  duty  required  him  to  remain  a  widower,  or 
to  marry  the  woman  he  did  not  prefer  because  a  part 
of  the  Church  was  opposed  to  a  slave-holding  Bishop  ; 
but  if  he  had  reason  to  suppose  the  results  which  did 
follow,  would  have  followed,  the  marriage  should  have 
been  preceded  by  the  resignation. 

I  have  said  Bishop  Andrew  did  not  expect  trouble 
from  this  marriage,  and  there  were  good  reasons  why 
he  did  not;  for  he  himself  had  been  a  slave-holder 
for  several  years  prior  to  this,  in  the  very  same  way 
that  he  was  now — through  his  wife.  This  fact  had 
in  no  way  been  concealed — yet  about  it  there  was 
no  complaint — concerning  it  there  was  no  inquiry. 
Thousands  of  the  best  men  in  the  Church  were  slave- 
owners, and  many  of  the  preachers,  itinerant  and  local, 
elders  and  deacons,  were  in  the  same  condition.  Dr. 
Olin,  at  that  time  highly  esteemed  in  the  North,  and 
even  in  New  England,  had  owned  slaves,  and  having 
sold  them,  had  the  proceeds  of  the  sales  still  in  his 
possession.  The  General  Conference  appointed  slave- 
holders, such  men  as  Dr.  Capers,  to  positions  of  dis- 
tinction and  trust;  and  only  eight  years  before  had 
strongly  condemned  the  societies  of  Abolitionism ; 
and  many  of  the  extreme  men  of  New  England  had 
actually  gone  out  of  the  Church  and  formed  another 
connection,  because  their  views  were  not  received. 
Neither  the  spirit  nor  the  letter  of  the  law  of  the 
Church  had  been  broken.  On  what  ground,  then, 
knowing  all  these  things,  could  he  suppose  that  his 
marriage  with  an  elegant  and  pious  lady,  who  hap- 
pened to  own  a  few  slaves,  but  who  would  have  been 


340 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


an  acceptable  member  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  anywhere  in  the  land,  would  call  forth  a  tem- 
pest of  such  violence  as  would  destroy  the  unity  of 
the  Church  ?  The  fact  is,  he  had  no  dream  of  such 
a  result.  Nor  was  he  aware  of  any  excitement  on  the 
subject,  until  he  reached  Baltimore  in  April,  when  on 
his  way  to  the  General  Conference  in  New  York,  in 
May.  Here  he  learned  of  the  intense  excitement 
caused  by  the  news  that  one  of  the  Bishops  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  owned  slaves,  and  had 
the  first  intimation  that  it  would  be  a  matter  for  Gen- 
eral Conference  investigation.  From  the  very  first, 
the  duties  of  the  Episcopal  office  had  been  unpleasant 
to  him,  and  for  some  time  past,  he  had  been  kept  in 
the  position  only  by  the  sternest  sense  of  obligation 
to  God.  If  his  conscience  could  have  been  made 
easy — if  it  could  have  been  shown  him  that  the  cause 
of  Christ,  and  the  good  of  Methodism,  required  his 
resignation,  most  gladly  would  he  have  surrendered 
the  office  and  returned  to  his  old  Conference  labors 
and  associations.  He  had  a  woman's  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing, and  to  have  his  private  affairs  publicly  discussed 
by  a  General  Conference  was  abhorrent  to  his  very 
soul.  Thinking  over  all  these  matters,  he  did  resolve 
to  resign,  and  so  expressed  himself  both  in  Baltimore 
and  New  York.  This  resolution,  however,  he  did  not 
execute,  for  reasons  which  will  presently  appear. 

He  reached  New  York,  and  presided  at  the  session 
of  the  General  Conference..  It  was  now  generally  ex- 
pected that  trouble  would  come,  and  so  it  did,  right 
early  in  the  session.  The  anti-slavery  men  had  been 
making  strong  efforts  to  secure  control  of  the  Con- 
ference, and  had  succeeded.    A  presidential  election 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


341 


was  not  far  ahead,  and  political  animosities,  blinding 
and  embittering,  were  entering  into  ecclesiastical 
affairs.  And  now  came  the  appeal  case  of  Harding 
from  the  Baltimore  Conference.  This  case  involved 
the  relations  of  preachers  to  slavery,  and  was  so  man- 
aged as  to  array  the  opposing  elements  against  each 
other,  and  to  make  it  next  to  impossible  to  consider 
with  calmness  any  matter  connected  in  any  way  with 
the  slavery  question.  This  case  was  at  length  dis- 
posed of,  but  it  left  a  large  part  of  the  Baltimore  Con- 
ference delegation  in  line  with  the  extremists. 

I  desire  to  do  exact  justice  to  all.  I  am  not  to  make 
comments  nor  even  to  write  a  general  history  of  the. 
course  of  this  Conference.  I  am  calmly  and  dispas- 
sionately to  review  the  course  Bishop  Andrew  took 
in  this  affair.  I  have  said  he  wished  to  resign — that 
he  had  resolved  to  do  so.  No  tired  soldier  ever  so 
longed  for  a  discharge  as  he  did  to  be  relieved  from  the 
toils  and  sacrifices  and  responsibilities  of  his  office. 

After  his  purpose  became  known  to  the  delegates 
from  the  Southern  Conferences,  the  following  paper 
was  put  into  his  hands  : 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  delegates  of  the  several  Con- 
ferences from  the  slave-holding  States,  with  two  from 
Illinois,  convened  in  the  Greene  Street  Church  in  the 
City  of  New  York,  for  the  purpose  of  considering  a 
communication  from  the  Rev  James  O.  Andrew,  one  of 
the  Bishops  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  in  which 
he  proposes  to  resign  his  Episcopal  office,  the  follow^ 
ing  ministers  were  present,  viz.  :  John  Early,  Thomas 
Crowder,  William  A.  Smith,  Leroy  M.  Lee,  Peter 
Doub,  James  Jamieson,  William  Capers,  William  M. 
Wightman,  Charles  Betts,  H.  A.  C.  Walker,  George  F. 


342 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Pierce,  William  J.  Parks,  L.  Pierce,  John  W.  Glenn, 
James  E.  Evans,  A.  B.  Longstreet,  Jesse  Boring,  J.  Ham- 
ilton, William  Murrah,  G.  Garrett,  William  Winans, 
Benjamin  M.  Drake,  John  Lane,  G.  M.  Rogers,  L. 
Fowler,  J.  Clark,  J.  C.  Parker,  W.  P.  Ratcliffe,  A.  Hun- 
ter, G.  W.  D.  Harris,  Samuel  S.  Moody,  W.  McMahon, 
Thomas  Joiner,  E.  F.  Sevier,  Samuel  Patton,  Thomas 
Stringfield,  H.  B.  Bascom,  William  Gunn,  H.  H.  Kav- 
anaugh,  E.  Stephenson,  B.  T.  Crouch,  George  W. 
Brush,  W.  W.  Redman,  William  Patton,  J.  C.  Berry- 
man,  J.  M.  Jamieson,  J.  B.  McFerrin,  A.  L.  P.  Green, 
Thomas  Madden,  Jonathan  Stamper,  N.  G.  Berryman. 
Dr.  L.  Pierce  was  called  to  the  chair  and  L.  M.  Lee 
appointed  secretary.  The  meeting  was  opened  with 
prayer  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Capers, 

The  Rev.  John  Early  offered  the  following  re- 
solution : 

Resolved. — That  Bishop  Andrew  be  requested  not 
to  resign  the  Episcopal  office.  The  Rev.  W.  McMahon 
moved  to  amend  the  resolution  so  as  to  appoint  a 
committee  to  write  an  address  to  Bishop  Andrew,  re- 
spectfully and  affectionately  requesting  him  not  to 
resign." 

After  a  very  general  and  entirely  harmonious  in- 
terchange of  opinion  upon  the  whole  subject.  Dr. 
Capers  offered  the  following  substitute,  which  was 
accepted  and  unaniniously  concurred  in  : 

"  Whereas,  Bishop  Andrew  has  signified  to  the  dele- 
gates of  the  Conference  in  the  slave-holding  States  a  pur- 
pose to  yield  to  the  present  distressing  urgency  of  the 
brethren  from  the  Northern  States,  and  resign  his  office 
of  Bishop,  and  whereas  in  a  meeting  of  said  delegates 
to  consider  this  matter,  after  solemn  prayer  and  much 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


343 


deliberation,  it  appears  to  us  that  his  resignation  would 
inflict  an  incurable  wound  on  the  whole  South  and  in- 
evitably lead  to  division  in  the  Church,  therefore  we 
do  unanimously  concur  in  requesting  the  Bishop,  by 
all  his  love  for  the  unity  of  the  Church,  which  his  re- 
signation will  certainly  jeopardize,  not  to  allow  him- 
self for  any  consideration  to  resign.' 

"  On  motion  the  meeting  adjourned  to  meet  again 
on  the  rise  of  the  General  Conference  to-morrow, 
Saturday,  May  nth. 

"  A  true  copy  of  the  minutes. 

"  L.  Pierce,  Chairman, 
**Leroy  M.  Lee,  Secretary." 

Resignation  now  became  almost  an  impossibility. 
And  when  it  was  intimated  that  he  had  broken  faith, 
and  that  he  must  resign  or  be  deposed,  tJieii  resigna- 
tion was  out  of  the  questiott.  The  issue  had  to  come. 
The  Conference  must  pass  his  character  or  lose  the 
South.  If  it  did  this,  and  left  him  where  he  was, 
the  extremists,  especially  in  New  England,  would  go 
off.  He  had  violated  no  law,  not  an  official  act  was 
illegal  ;  how  to  reach  the  case  and  satisfy  the  extrem- 
ists was  a  question  of  very  great  moment.  The  attack 
was  not  made  by  the  pronounced  aboUtionists,  who 
were  comparatively  few  in  the  body,  but  by  the  Anti- 
slavery  men,  who  were  quite  numerous.  It  was  de- 
cided that  it  should  be  made  by  the  Baltimore  Con- 
ference, one  of  the  most  conservative  in  all  the  past 
history  of  the  Church,  and  that  Mr.  Collins,  who  had 
conducted  the  Harding  case,  should  make  the  initial 
move.  It  came  up  in  the  form  of  a  resolution  which 
simply  asked  for  information  on  the  subject  of  Bishop 


344 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Andrew's  connection  with  slavery.  To  the  resolution 
he  made  the  following  response : 

Dear  Brethren  : — In  reply  to  your  inquiry,  I 
submit  the  following  statement  of  all  the  facts  bearing 
on  my  connection  with  slavery.  Several  years  since  an 
old  lady  of  Augusta,  Ga. ,  bequeathed  to  me  a  mulatto 
girl,  in  trust,  that  I  would  take  care  of  her  until  she 
should  be  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  with  her  consent 
I  should  send  her  to  Liberia,  and  that  in  case  of  her 
refusal  I  should  keep  her  and  make  her  as  free  as  the 
laws  of  the  State  of  Georgia  would  permit.  When 
the  time  arrived  she  refused  to  go  to  Liberia  and  of 
her  own  choice  remains  legally  my  slave,  although  I 
derive  no  pecuniary  advantage  from  her,  she  continu- 
ing to  live  in  her  own  house  on  my  lot,  and  has  been, 
and  still  is,  at  perfect  liberty  to  go  to  a  free  State  at  her 
pleasure,  but  the  laws  of  the  State  will  not  permit  her 
emancipation,  nor  admit  such  a  deed  of  emancipation 
to  record,  and  she  refuses  to  leave  the  State.  In  her 
case,  therefore,  I  have  been  made  a  slave-holder  le- 
gally, but  not  with  my  own  consent. 

"  Second. — About  five  years  since,  the  mother  of  my 
former  wife  left  to  her  daughter — not  to  me — a  negro 
boy,  and  as  my  wife  died  without  a  will,  more  than  two 
years  since,  by  the  laws  of  the  State  he  becomes  legally 
my  property.  In  this  case,  as  in  the  former,  emancipa- 
tion is  impracticable  in  the  State,  but  he  shall  be  at 
liberty  to  leave  the  State  whenever  I  shall  be  satisfied 
that  he  is  prepared  to  provide  for  himself,  or  I  can 
have  sufificient  security  that  he  will  be  protected  and 
provided  for  in  the  place  to  which  he  may  go. 

Third. — In  the  month  of  January  last  I  married  my 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  345 


present  wife,  she  being  at  that  time  possessed  of  slaves 
inherited  from  her  former  husband's  estate,  and  be- 
longing to  her.  Shortly  after  my  marriage,  being  un- 
willing to  become  their  owner,  regarding  them  as 
strictly  hers,  and  the  law  not  permitting  their  emanci- 
pation, I  secured  them  to  her  by  deed  of  trust. 

"  It  will  be  obvious  to  you,  from  the  above  statement 
of  facts,  that  I  have  neither  bought  nor  sold  a  slave, 
that  in  the  only  circumstances  in  which  I  am  legally 
a  slave-holder  emancipation  is  impracticable.  As  to 
the  servants  owned  by  my  wife,  I  have  no  legal  re- 
sponsibility in  the  premises,  nor  could  my  wife  eman- 
cipate them  if  she  desired  to  do  so.  I  have  thus 
plainly  stated  all  the  facts  in  the  case  and  submit  the 
statement  for  the  consideration  of  the  General  Con- 
ference. 

Yours  Respectfully, 
"  James  O.  Andrew." 

These  facts  were  all  known  before,  but  they  were 
now  before  the  Conference  fairly,  and  under  the  signa- 
ture of  the  Bishop  himself. 

Since  1836,  the  most  constant  agitation  of  this  sub- 
ject had  been  going  on,  and  the  South  was  becoming 
extreme  in  one  direction,  while  the  North  was  going 
to  extremes  in  the  other.  The  Anti-slavery  feeling 
was  in  many  cases  calling  for  abolition  by  any  means 
whatsoever.  The  mass  of  the  Northern  preachers 
were  opposed  to  slavery,  but  they  were  not  Abolition- 
ists. They  found  themselves  hard  put  to  it  to  defend 
their  position.  When  now  it  was  known  that  a  Bishop 
was  a  slave-holder,  they  felt  they  were  in  a  sad  pre- 
dicament. The  strife  in  the  Church  in  New  England 
15* 


346 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


was  constant  and  bitter.  Even  Hedding,  the  most 
pronounced  Anti-slavery  man  among  them,  was  de- 
nounced in  his  own  section  for  his  moderation.  The 
conservatives  felt  the  weakness  of  their  position.  If 
it  was  a  moral  evil,  how  could  they  condone  it?  If 
it  was  not,  how  could  they  condemn  it  ?  Could  they 
say  it  was  a  sin,  and  yet  permit  bishops,  secretaries, 
editors,  and  members  to  practise  it  ?  The  South,  too, 
had  become  very  restless  under  the  proscription  which 
she  endured,  and  saw  she  was  destined  to  endure. 

She  had  taken  an  advanced  position  also.  The 
ground  that  slavery  was  an  evil  which  was  to  be  ex- 
tirpated as  soon  as  possible  (which  was  the  old  posi- 
tion of  the  church),  the  extreme  men  of  the  South  had 
abandoned,  and  they  had  reached  the  conclusion  that 
involuntary  servitude  was  good,  and  that  the  evils 
of  slavery,  as  they  existed,  were  not  necessarily  con- 
nected with  a  system  of  labor  without  contract.  Con- 
demning all  the  moral  evils  which  attended  the  sys-  * 
tem,  they  contended  that  these  could  be  better  cor- 
rected, and  were  less  in  the  aggregate,  than  the  evils 
which  would  follow  emancipation.  They  believed 
that  in  Church  and  State  the  matter  was  one  to  be 
managed  alone  by  the  people  among  whom  it  was 
found.  They  claimed  that  the  church  had  gone  too 
far  in  having  an  utterance  on  the  subject — but  that 
the  South  was  willing  to  stand  by  the  law  of  the 
church.  The  General  Conference  was  composed  of 
these  parties  and  of  a  third  which  proposed  to  con- 
ciliate the  extremists  by  rigid  adherence  to  the  old 
tradition  of  the  church — that  no  slave  owner  should 
preach  if  he  could  not  divest  himself  of  the  incubus 
of  slave-holding.    The  case  was  now  fairly  before  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


347 


Conference.  It  was  evident  that  there  would  be  no 
resignation  voluntarily  tendered.  The  hope  that  the 
issue  would  be  avoided  in  this  way  was  seen  to  be 
baseless,  and  again  two  members  of  the  Baltimore 
Conference  were  put  forward  to  lead  the  attack.  A 
preamble  and  resolution  was  presented  by  Alfred 
Griffith  and  John  Davis,  reciting  the  fact  that  it  had 
been  an  invariable  usage  to  elect  no  one  to  the  Epis- 
copal office  who  owned  slaves,  and  that  a  bishop  who 
did  so,  could  not  discharge  his  duties  with  acceptance 
to  that  part  of  his  charge  where  slavery  did  not  exist ; 
that  Bishop  Andrew  was  nominated  by  the  slave- 
holding  States  because  he  was  not  a  slaveholder,  and 
as  he  had  become  one,  Therefore,  Resolved,  that 
James  O.  Andrew  is  hereby  affectionately  requested 
to  resign,"  Mr.  Griffith  will  be  recognized  as  one  of 
the  actors  in  the  old  Presiding  Elder  controversy,  and 
it  will  be  remembered  that  he  was  on  the  low  church 
side  of  that  question.  In  his  view  a  bishop  was  sim- 
ply an  officer  of  the  General  Conference,  as  was  a  book 
editor  or  missionary  secretary,  and  if  there  was  any- 
thing in  his  character  or  circumstances  that  rendered 
him  objectionable  to  that  body,  he  might,  with  perfect 
propriety,  be  requested  to  resign,  or  be  deposed  with- 
out trial.  It  was  only  a  question  of  expediency.  It 
was  the  old  position  of  1820  restated  with  a  different 
application,  on  a  different  issue.  Mr.  Griffith  argued 
the  right  of  the  General  Conference  to  ask  the  resig- 
nation. Mr.  Sandford  of  New  York  presented  the 
expediency  of  its  doing  so.  Dr.  Winans,  who  was 
present  at  the  election  of  Bishop  Andrew,  a  delegate 
from  Mississippi,  followed  in  a  speech  making  some 
bold  and  very  impressive  statements.    He  said  that 


348 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  North  did  not  accept  Bishop  Andrew  because  he 
was  a  non- slaveholder — that  the  South  did  not  put 
him  in  nomination  because  of  that  fact — and  that  it  was 
designed  by  Northern  men,  now  engaged  in  this  cru- 
sade against  him,  to  elect  a  slaveholder  at  the  very 
time  Bishop  Andrew  was  elected.  Dr.  Bangs  as- 
serted that  Bishop  Andrew  had  been  elected  from  the 
South  because  he  was  not  a  slaveholder,  and  inti- 
mated that  his  election  resulted  from  this  fact  alone. 
This  statement  was  reiterated  in  the  reply  to  the  pro- 
test. Dr.  Winans  denied  this.  So  did  Dr.  Capers. 
Dr.  Pierce  said  that  his  freedom  from  all  connection 
with  slavery  at  the  time  might  have  secured  him  some 
votes,  but  was  not  the  main  motive  of  his  election. 
Though  there  were  many  speeches,  the  main  points 
are  those  herein  glanced  at. 

The  North  claimed  the  right  to  depose  a  bishop 
for  any  cause  whatever  that  rendered  him  unaccepta- 
ble to  any  part  of  his  Episcopal  district.  The  South 
denied  this  right.  The  North  said  it  was  expedient 
to  ask  this  resignation — the  South  denied  it.  The 
discussion  was  Christian  in  spirit,  and  courteous  in 
language.  There  were,  however,  some  exceptions  to 
it.  In  so  large  a  body,  and  on  such  exciting  subjects, 
there  are  always  exceptions.  It  was  admitted  by  the 
speakers  from  the  North,  that  Bishop  Andrew  was  a 
model  bishop,  and  that  no  personal  blame  was  to  be 
attached  to  him  for  the  condition  of  things  around 
him  ;  but  since  this  condition  did  exist,  there  was  but 
one  course  left  for  the  church — he  must  get  out  of  the 
way.  To  ask  him  to  resign  was  so  painful  to  many 
who  did  not  want  a  slaveholder  in  that  office,  that  Mr. 
Finley,  of  Ohio,  introduced  his  famous  substitute. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


349 


The  preamble  and  resolution  read  as  follows : 
Whereas  the  discipline  of  our  church  forbids  the 
doing  of  anything  calculated  to  destroy  our  itinerant 
general  superintendency,  and  whereas  Bishop  Andrew 
has  become  connected  with  slavery  by  inheritance 
and  otherwise,  and  this  act  having  drawn  after  it  cir- 
cumstances which  in  the  estimation  of  the  General 
Conference  will  greatly  embarrass  the  exercise  of  his 
office  as  an  itinerant  general  superintendent,  if  not  in 
some  places  entirely  prevent  it,  therefore,  Resolved, 
that  it  is  the  sense  of  this  General  Conference  that  he 
desist  from  the  exercise  of  this  office  so  long  as  this 
impediment  remains." 

Mr.  Finley  was  Bishop  Andrew's  personal  friend, 
and  offered  the  substitute,  believing  it  to  be  less  offen- 
sive to  the  Southern  delegates  than  the  original  resolu- 
tion. But  it  was  really  more  offensive,  because,  since 
he  could  not  conscientiously  remove  the  impediments^ 
it  amounted  to  permanent  deposition. 

No  man  in  the  Conference  was  more  strongly  at- 
tached to  Bishop  Andrew,  perhaps,  than  Dr.  Olin. 
The  night  before  he  was  to  speak,  he  visited  the 
Bishop  and  told  him  the  course  he  intended  to  take, 
and  why  he  would  take  it.  He  would  advocate  the 
substitute  ;  for,  if  it  was  not  passed  New  England 
would  go  off,  and  there  would  be  division  and  disinte- 
gration everywhere  in  the  North.  But  if  it  were 
passed  the  South  would  go  off  and  there  would  be 
union  and  peace  in  all  her  borders. 

It  is  the  province  of  church  history  to  tell  the 
story  of  this  great  debate,  than  which,  few,  if  any, 
have  been  abler.  We,  who  look  at  it  after  forty  years 
have  gone  by,  can  easily  see  the  embarrassments  of 


350 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  situation  on  both  sides,  and  can  credit  each  party 
with  the  talents  and  honesty,  and  piety  which  is 
claimed  for  it  by  its  friends.  The  Northern  delegates 
could  not  hide  from  themselves  the  fact  that  the  anti- 
slavery  feeling  had  gone  far  beyond  all  its  former 
bounds,  and  that  they  must  not  only  respect  it  but 
must  yield  to  it,  or  that  the  church  would  be  torn 
asunder  with  strife  and  discord.  The  Southern  dele- 
gates could  not  hide  from  themselves,  now  that  the 
issue  was  made,  that  to  yield  to  the  demand  of  the 
anti-slavery  feeling  was  simply  to  destroy  Method- 
ism in  the  entire  South. 

Bishop  Andrew  was  in  no  proper  sense  the  cause  of 
all  this  trouble,  he  was  only  the  providential  occasion  of 
it.  No  one  could  blame  him  for  his  position,  and  yet 
it  seemed  impossible  for  him  to  stand  where  he  did, 
and  the  unity  of  the  church  be  preserved.  During 
the  debate  he  kept  silent.  At  last  he  said,  with 
reference  to  resignation :  "  That  he  heard  first  in 
Baltimore  of  the  matter  and  was  assured,  when  he  ar- 
rived in  New  York,  that  he  must  resign  or  be  de- 
posed. He  never  thought  the  subject  would  become 
one  of  grave  discussion.  If  he  had  offended  the 
Discipline,  he  was  willing  to  resign.  He  had  no  fond- 
ness for  the  Episcopacy  especially  in  the  form  in 
which  it  was  held  by  the  Conference,  and  he  pitied 
the  man  who  could  remain  in  it,  or  accept  it  at 
their  hands.  If  his  resignation  was  necessary  to  the 
peace  of  the  Church,  he  would  at  once  make  it,  and 
return  home  to  labor  among  the  slaves,  as  he  had 
done,  and  to  save  those  upon  whom  their  pretended 
fiiiends  were  inflicting  suffering  and  ruin."  After  a 
very  earnest  speech  by  John  A.   Collins,  Bishop 


y antes  Osgood  Andreiv. 


351 


Andrew,  says  the  journal,  evidently  laboring  under 
powerful  emotion,  spoke  as  follows.  The  address  is  a 
somewhat  lengthy  one,  it  is  full  of  feeling  and  elo- 
quence. He  felt,  he  said,  but  was  offended  with  no 
man.  The  most  of  those  who  had  spoken  had  treated 
him  respectfully.  Brother  Hodges,  in  1832,  asked 
him  to  allow  himself  to  be  put  in  nomination  for  the 
episcopacy.  He  declined  to  do  so,  and  at  last  only 
consented  so  as  to  secure  peace.  He  was  never  asked 
if  he  was  a  slave-holder.  No  man  asked  him  what 
his  principles  on  that  subject  were.  He  told  William 
Winans  he  was  in  unison  with  him  on  that  subject. 
He  was  forced  to  hire  slaves.  He  believed  it  would 
have  been  less  a  sin  to  have  bought  one.  He  added  : 
It  is  known  that  I  have  waded  through  deep  sorrows 
during  the  last  four  years.  I  have  buried  the  wife  of 
my  youth,  the  mother  of  my  children,  who  left  me 
with  a  family  of  motherless  children  who  needed  a 
friend  and  a  mother.  I  sought  another,  and  with  this 
the  Conference  has  nothingf  to  do.  I  found  one  who  I 
believed  would  make  me  a  good  wife  and  a  good 
mother  for  my  children.  I  had  known  her  long. 
My  children  knew  and  loved  her.  I  sought  to  make 
my  home  a  happy  one.  I  did  so  deliberately  and  in 
the  fear  of  God,  and  God  has  blessed  our  union.  I 
might  have  avoided  this  difficulty  by  resorting  to  a 
trick,  by  making  over  those  slaves  to  my  wife  before 
marriage,  or  by  doing  as  a  friend  who  has  taken 
ground  in  favor  of  this  resignation  suggested  :  *  Why 
did  you  not  let  your  wife  make  over  these  negroes  to 
her  children,  securing  an  annuity  to  herself  from  them  ? ' 
Sir,  my  conscience  would  not  allow  me  to  do  this 
thing.    If  I  had  done  so  and  these  negroes  had  passed 


352 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


into  the  hands  of  those  who  would  have  treated  them 
unkindly,  I  would  have  been  unhappy.  Strange  as  it 
may  seem  to  you,  brethren,  I  am  a  slave-holder  for 
conscience  sake.  I  have  no  doubt  that  my  wife 
would,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  consent  to  the 
manumission  of  those  slaves,  if  I  thought  proper  to  ask 
it.  But  how  am  I  to  free  them.  Some  are  too  old  to 
work  and  only  an  expense  to  me,  and  some  are  little 
children.  Where  shall  I  send  them  ?  But  perhaps 
I  shall  be  permitted  to  keep  these  helpless  ones. 
Many  of  them  would  not  go.  I  believe  the  provi- 
dence of  God  has  thrown  these  creatures  into  my 
hands  and  holds  me  responsible  for  their  proper  treat- 
ment. I  secured  them  to  my  wife  by  a  deed  of  trust 
since  our  marriage.  They  were  hers,  if  I  should  die 
they  would  be  her  dependence.  Sir,  I  did  not  be- 
lieve for  a  moment  that  this  body  of  grave  and  rever- 
ent ministers  would  make  this  a  subject  of  serious  dis- 
cussion. I  thought  it  likely  some  ultra  Brethren 
would  take  some  exception  to  my  course,  and  on  that 
account  I  did  not  make  a  deed  of  trust  before  mar- 
riage, lest  some  should  suppose  I  designed  to  dodge 
responsibility.  I  have  no  confession  to  make.  I 
intend  to  make  none.  I  stand  upon  the  broad 
ground  of  the  discipline  on  which  I  took  office,  and  if 
I  have  done  wrong  put  me  out.  .  .  .  It  is  said  I 
have  rendered  myself  unacceptable  to  the  people.  I 
doubt  this.  I  have  just  returned  from  Philadelphia, 
where  they  knew  me  to  be  a  slave-holder  ;  they  flocked 
to  hear  me,  and  the  presence  of  God  was  with  us. 
We  had  a  good,  warm,  old-fashioned  meeting.  I  may 
be  unacceptable  in  New  York,  yet  from  the  experience 
I  have  had,  I  doubt  that.    To  whom  am  I  unaccept- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  353 

able  ?  Not  to  the  people  of  the  South,  neither 
masters  nor  slaves.  Sir,  I  venture  to  say  that  in 
Carolina  or  Georgia  I  could  get  more  votes  to-day  for 
the  office  of  Bishop  than  any  supporter  of  this  resolu- 
tion, should  the  Conference  think  proper  to  pass  me. 
There  is  plenty  of  ground  where  I  can  labor  acceptably 
and  usefully.  The  Conference  can  take  its  course, 
but  I  protest  against  the  proposed  action  as  a  viola- 
tion of  the  laws  of  the  Discipline,  and  an  invasion  of 
the  rights  secured  to  me  by  that  book.  I  enter  no 
plea  of  mercy.  I  make  no  appeal  for  sympathy.  I 
wish  you  to  act  coolly,  deliberately,  and  in  the  fear 
of  God.  But  I  would  rather  the  Conference  would 
change  the  issue  and  make  the  resolution  to  depose 
the  Bishop  and  take  the  question  at  once,  for  I  am 
tired  of  it." 

This  is  an  epitome  of  this  grand  vindication.  He 
stood  that  May  morning  surrounded  by  the  associates 
of  many  years — by  those  with  whom  he  had  traveled 
over  the  wild  prairies  of  the  West,  and  those  with 
whom  he  had  taken  sweet  counsel  in  the  cities  of  the 
East — men  who  he  knew  loved  him,  and  yet  who  were 
arrayed  against  him.  He  had  heard  some  remarks  so 
rude,  so  insulting,  so  harsh,  that  he  would  have  been 
less  than  a  man  not  to  have  winced  under  them.  He 
had  heard  also  a  vindication  from  those  who  opposed 
his  election,  and  with  whom  perhaps  he  was  still  no 
favorite.  Then,  too,  he  saw  with  alarm  the  Confer- 
ence was  about  to  declare,  as  a  right  of  the  body, 
what  he  believed  would  destroy  an  independent  Epis- 
copacy, Had  the  vote  been  taken  after  this  speech 
the  result  might  have  been  different  from  what  it  was. 
But  the  debate  continued  for  several  days  longer. 


354  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

Strong  efforts  were  made  by  the  Bishops  and  moderate 
men  to  stay  the  tide,  but  all  in  vain.  On  the  ist  of 
June  the  vote  was  taken,  and  1 1 1  were  for,  while  only 
69  were  against  it. 

This  was  a  virtual  deposition  from  office.  Grieved 
but  not  surprised,  he  left  for  his  home  in  Georgia. 
During  the  session  he  wrote  the  following  letters  to 
his  wife  and  daughter. 

"  New  York,  May  14,  1844. 

My  Precious  Daughter: 

"  Your  third  letter  on  the  same  sheet  with  Robert's, 
was  received  yesterday.  I  need  not  tell  my  dear 
children  how  much  pleasure  it  afforded  me  to  hear 
from  them.  Your  letters  will  be  always  gladly  re- 
ceived by  your  fond  father.  Thank  God,  I  have  a 
blessed  affectionate  family  of  children  as  ever  father 
was  blessed  with,  and  I  believe,  take  us  all  together, 
few  families  are  more  affectionate  and  happy  than  ours. 
God  Almighty  graciously  and  abundantly  bless  you 
every  one.  Oh,  that  I  were  this  day  in  my  own  pre- 
cious happy  family  circle,  how  greatly  would  I  prefer 
its  'sweet  quiet  to  the  everlasting  thunder  and  din  of 
this  great,  miserable,  dirty  city  !  But  I  cannot  see 
my  loved  ones  as  yet  ;  I  must  wait  patiently.  My 
dear  Elizabeth,  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  and  felt  a 
great  deal  about  you  in  view  of  your  approaching  hour 
of  trial,  which  will  probably  have  passed  before  you 
receive  these  lines.  .  .  .  Tell  your  mother  I  have 
written  to  her  about  four  times  since  I  came  here  and 
have  received  one  letter  from  her.  I  should  have 
written  to  her  to-day,  but  as  I  am  writing  to  you,  this 
must  suffice  for  the  whole  family  for  a  day  or  two. 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  355 


**  However,  I  intend  writing  to  her  in  the  course  of 
the  week,  or  as  soon  as  I  hear  from  her  again,  which 
I  trust  will  be  soon,  as  I  am  very  anxious  to  hear  how 
she  is  and  how  Orange  and  Billy  have  got.  I  fear  she 
has  had  a  troublesome  time  in  my  absence.  God  bless 
her,  I  wish  I  was  there  to  relieve  her  

"As  to  the  General  Conference,  thus  far  it  has  done 
httle  else  but  quarrel.  The  old  subject  of  slavery  has 
come  up  in  every  shape  and  form.  They  are,  some 
of  them,  in  great  trouble  about  having  a  slave-holding 
Bishop,  and  I  should  greatly  relieve  them  if  I  would 
resign  ;  but  the  delegations  of  the  different  slave-hold- 
ing States  have  held  a  meeting  and  have  unanimously 
protested  against  my  resignation,  under  any  circum- 
stances^  as  ruinous  to  the  whole  Southern  portion  of 
our  Church.  In  fact,  I  believe  they  are  solemnly 
pledged,  if  I  resign,  that  they  will  to  a  man  secede 
from  the  Conference.  I  would  most  joyfully  resign, 
if  I  did  not  dread  the  influence  on  the  Southern  Church. 
I  shall  therefore  wait  patiently  awhile  linger  to  see 
how  the  wind  blows.  The  clouds  are  dark,  but  God 
is  in  the  whirlwind  and  guides  the  storm.  My  love  to 
Robert  and  Sally,  and  Henry  and  Thomas,  Molly  and 
Ocky,  and  my  pretty  little  boy,  as  he  calls  himself  Oh, 
how  I  want  to  see  him  and  hear  his  sweet,  artless  prat- 
tle. Kiss  them  all  for  me,  and  don't  forget  a  warm 
sweet  one  for  your  mother." 

"  New  York,  May  16,  1844. 

My  Precious  Wife  : 

"  I  have  been  looking  very  anxiously  for  a  letter 
from  you  this  whole  week,  but  up  to  this  time  I  have 
looked  in  vain.    I  received  a  letter  from  Robert  and 


356 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Elizabeth  a  few  days  since.  They  mentioned  that 
you  had  been  sick  with  a  headache,  which  news  made 
me  increasingly  anxious  to  hear  from  you.  I  know 
you  ought  not  write  at  all  shortly  after  your  headache, 
and  wish  you  to  avoid  everything  which  gives  you 
pain,  yet  my  Leonora  will  forgive  me  when  I  say  I 
long  to  hear  from  her  own  hand.  Do,  my  love,  write 
to  me  weekly,  if  you  can  write  only  a  dozen  lines. 
Robert  mentioned  that  Billie  and  Orange '  were  sick, 
and  I  am  anxious  to  hear  how  they  cire.  I  fear  you 
have  had  a  fatiguing  time  nursing  them,  and  wish  I 
were  there  to  help  you  in  your  work.  I  trust  that 
you  are  all  well  and  doing  well,  and  that  all  our  dear 
children  are  in  health  and  happy.  How  I  would  re- 
joice to  see  the  faces  and  hear  the  voices  of  those  dear 
ones  so  greatly  beloved  by  me.  Oh,  my  own 
dear  sweet  home !  The  sweetest  spot  on  this  green 
earth,  how  gladly  Avould  I  spend  the  balance  of  my 
life  in  your  society!  But  we  must  trust  God  and 
obey  him.  ^ 

"These  good  people  have  found  out  that  I  am  a 
slave-holder,  and  as  they  are  too  religious  to  hold  any 
sort  of  communion  with  such  a  sinner  as  a  slave- 
holder, they  are  exceedingly  anxious  to  get  clear 
of  me.  But  the  entire  delegations  from  the  twelve 
slave-holding  Conferences  have  met,  and  through  a 
committee,  have  earnestly  protested  against  my  re- 
signation under  any  circumstances,  as  inevitably  de- 
structive to  the  Southern  Church  ;  and  for  the  sake  of 
that  Church  I  have  resolved  to  maintain  my  position, 
and  await  the  issue.     Now  don't  say  '  That's  what 


*  Colored  servants. 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


357 


you  got  by  marrying  me  ' — no,  my  love,  I  was  a 
slave-holder  before  I  married  you,  and  you  know  it's 
just  as  wicked  to  own  one  as  fifty,  so  you  are  no- 
way implicated  in  the  matter,  and  if  you  were,  there 
is  no  wrong  in  it  in  the  sight  of  God  or  sensible  men. 
I  have  broken  no  law  of  God  or  the  Church,  and  I  re- 
gard the  whole  procedure  as  an  impertinent  inter- 
ference with  my  domestic  arrangements.  1  intend  to 
wait  patiently  and  leave  the  issue  with  God.  If  any 
measures  are  taken  against  me  publicly  the  whole 
Southern  Church  goes  with  me.  We  have  a  prudent, 
discreet  committee  from  both  sides  of  the  Conference, 
who  are  endeavoring  to  devise  plans  for  an  amicable 
adjustment  of  all  existing  difficulties.  God,  I  trust, 
will  direct  them,  though  I  confess  I  am  not  very 
sanguine.  One  thing  I  know,  God  is  wise  and  good,  and 
sitteth  King  above  the  water  floods.  Should  a  separa- 
tion take  place  between  the  North  and  South,  I  think, 
from  the  present  temper  of  the  Conference,  we  will 
probably  separate  peaceably,  which  is  greatly  desirable. 
Don't  be  uneasy,  my  love,  all  will  be  right ;  and  let 
the  General  Conference  do  or  say  as  it  will,  one  thing 
I  know  :  God  has  given  me  one  of  the  best  wives  in 
the  world,  and  that  I  am  a  happy  husband.  God  be 
praised  for  the  precious  gift. 

''James  O.  Andrew." 

*'  New  York,  May  25,  1844. 

My  Own  Ever  Precious  Wife  : 

"  I  wrote  to  you  a  few  days  since,  but  as  I  know  your 
anxiety  to  hear  from  me,  I  write  again,  and  hope  you 
will  receive  it  next  week.  The  Conference  has  had 
my  case  before  it  for  several  days  past.    I  have 


358 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


been  handled  pretty  freely  by  the  speakers,  but  so  far 
not  a  word  has  been  uttered  derogatory. to  my  char- 
acter as  a  man,  a  Christian  minister,  or  a  Christian 
Bishop.  Nay,  they  say  that  in  all  these  things  I  stand 
No.  I,  and  then  I  have  heard  the  following  state- 
ment made  :  '  That  if  Bishop  Andrew  had  searched 
the  whole  United  States,  he  could  not  have  found  a 
lady  better  fitted  for  a  Bishop's  wife  than  the  one  he 
has  married.'  Now,  my  love,  you  know  I  would  have 
endorsed  every  word  of  it — at  least  I  would  have 
said  there  was  not  another  woman  on  earth  who 
would  have  suited  one  Bishop  as  well  as  you  do.  So 
you  see,  my  precious,  that  one  good  thing  has  grown 
out  of  the  trouble  :  I  have  found  cut  what  a  great  man 
I  am  considered  in  the  Connection — a  matter  which  I 
should  not  have  otherwise  discovered.  As  to  what 
they  have  said  about  you,  I  knew  all  that,  and  a  great 
deal  more,  long  ago.  Now,  my  love,  I  have  no  doubt 
you  will  see  a  great  deal  published  in  the  papers  on 
this  subject,  but  don't  let  it  trouble  you  at  all. 

"  I  am  in  good  health,  and  quite  calm,  and  I  have 
no  doubt,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  all  will  be  over- 
ruled for  the  promotion  of  His  glory  and  the  ultimate 
good  of  the  Church.  I  don't  believe  they  can  injure 
me  at  all.  But  if  they  do,  as  I  told  you  in  my  last  let- 
ter, they  can  only  unbishop  me,  and  I  shall  return  to 
labor  in  the  country  around  home,  and  be  perhaps 
more  useful,  and  I  am  sure  happier,  than  in  my  present 
circumstances,  for  I  should  be  nearer  to,  and  more 
constantly  with,  my  own  precious  wife  and  family.  I 
trust  they  will  get  through  with  the  case  on  Monday, 
and  if  so  they  may  possibly  c^ose  the  Conference  by 
the  last  of  the  week.    This,  however,  is  doubtful.  As 


Ja^nes  Osgood  Andrew.  359 


soon  as  the  matter  is  settled  I  will  let  you  know  the 
result.  Meanwhile  don't  let  my  Leonora  trouble  her- 
self at  all  about  the  issue  of  this  affair.  It  will  all  be 
right,  for  God  is  the  judge  and  he  is  king  in  Zion.  I 
leave  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or  two,  God  willing,  for 
Philadelphia,  where  I  expect  to  preach  to-morrow,  and 
return  on  Monday.** 

"Philadelphia,  May  26th. 
You  will  perceive  that  I  have  been  safely  kept  to  see 
another  day,  even  another  holy  day.  God  be  praised 
that  he  has  kept  me  and  blessed  me  as  he  has.  I  left 
New  York  last  evening  about  five  o'clock,  and  reached 
thi^  city  about  eleven  o'clock  in  safety.  This  morn- 
ing I  am  in  good  health,  and  enjoy,  I  trust,  a  sweet 
consciousness  of  divine  acceptance.  Yet  I  do  not  en- 
joy as  much  of  the  divine  presence  as  I  desire,  or  as 
I  have  sometimes  enjoyed.  I  felt  it  exceedingly  dif- 
ficult to  keep  my  mind  free  from  excitement  and  pre- 
judice against  certain  men  who  have  taken  a  prominent 
and  active  part  in  this  strange  and  unparalleled  course. 
And  yet  I  ought  not  to  indulge  any  unkindness  toward 
them — they  are  very  probably  acting  honestly.  Oh, 
my  blessed  Saviour,  give  me  grace  to  quell  every  feel- 
ing and  temper  which  is  contrary  to  Thine  own 
divine  and  glorious  example.  If  I  would  agree  to  free 
the  slaves  I  would  be  a  very  clever  man,  but  how 
could  I  free  them  ?  Where  would  they  go,  and  how 
support  themselves  ?  As  a  Christian  and  a  man  of 
humanity  I  could  not  let  them  go  without  some 
security  for  their  support.  I  knew  from  the  begin- 
ning that  you  would  consent  to  anything  that  I  might 
judge  proper,  and  the  assurances  to  this  effect  in  your 


36o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


letter  have  endeared  you  to  me  but  the  more,  if  that 
were  possible.  I  will  endeavor  to  act  for  the  best  in 
all  circumstances,  and  I  know  my  Leonora  will  be  satis- 
fied with  whatever  I  do  in  the  matter. 

"Love  and  a  kiss  for  all,  and  may  the  everlasting 
arms  be  underneath  you,  is  the  prayer  of  your 
Affectionate  and  happy  husband, 

James  O.  Andrew." 

The  after-history  is  well  known  ;  I  shall  not  enter 
into  it  here.  A  separation  was  suggested,  and  at  the 
instance  of  the  Southern  delegations  the  Southern 
Conferences  were  authorized  to  form  a  second  General 
Conference,  if  they  thought  best.  Before  leaving  this 
subject  the  reader  must  see  Bishop  Andrew's  course 
in  its  true  light. 

First. — He  never  intimated,  w^hen  his  friends  put  him 
out  as  a  candidate  for  the  office  he  held,  or  allowed  his 
friends  to  do  so  for  him,  that  he  was  opposed  to  the 
slave-holding  of  the  South,  and  that  he  would  never 
hold  a  slave. 

Second. — He  had,  however,  in  deference  to  the  feel- 
ings of  the  most  ultra,  never  bought  a  slave. 

Third. — He  had  become  possessed  of  them  without 
his  voKtion,  and  could  not  conscientiously  rid  himself 
of  this  relation  of  ownership. 

Fourth. — After  his  marriage,  when  he  found  that 
dissensions  might  arise,  he  desired  to  resign,  in  the 
interests  of  peace,  and  refrained  from  doing  so  only 
when  he  found  an  immediate  and  violent  division  of 
the  Church  would  result. 

Fifth. — He  stood  upon  his  disciplinary  rights,  be- 
cause a  surrender  of  them,  under  the  circumstances, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


361 


he  believed,  would  establish  a  principle  that  would 
subvert  the  polity  of  the  Church  and  of  its  discip- 
line. 

It  should  also  be  noted  that  the  North  did  not  strike 
at  him,  but  at  slaveholding,  and  at  the  doctrine  that 
the  General  Conference  has  not  supreme  jurisdiction 
over  Bishops  as  over  other  officers  ;  and  that  the 
South  did  not  defend  him  as  a  man,  but  defended  the 
law  which  permitted  slaveholding,  and  the  doctrine 
that  the  Episcopal  office  is  not  under  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  General  Conference,  the  Conference  being  only 
the  agent  of  the  Church  to  see  that  the  Bishops  obey 
the  law.  Bishop  Soule  presented  the  view  held  by 
the  South  on  this  point  in  an  able  speech,  and  urged 
the  Conference  to  pause  before  they  laid  on  Bishop 
Andrew  the  mandate  to  cease  from  Episcopal  labor. 
Many  did  not  consider  the  resolution  as  mandatory, 
but  only  advisory  ;  and  the  Conference  finally  adopted 
these  resolutions  : 

First. — That  Bishop  Andrew's  name  should  stand 
on  the  Minutes,  the  Hymn  Book,  and  the  Discipline. 

Seco7id. — That  the  rule  in  relation  to  the  support  of 
a  Bishop  and  his  family  applied  to  Bishop  Andrew. 

Third. — That  whether  any  and  in  what  work  Bishop 
Andrew  be  employed,  is  to  be  determined  by  his  own 
decision  and  action  in  relation  to  the  previous  action 
of  this  Conference  in  his  case. 

In  reply  to  the  protest  of  the  Southern  delegates  it 
was  said,  "The  action  of  the  General  Conference  was 
neither  judicial  nor  primitive  ;  it  neither  achieves  nor 
intends  a  deposition,  nor  so  much  as  a  legal  suspen- 
sion. Bishop  Andrew  is  still  a  Bishop,  and  should  he, 
against  the  expressed  sense  of  the  General  Conference, 
16 


362 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


proceed  in  the  discharge  of  the  functions  of  his  office, 
his  official  acts  would  be  valid." 

That  the  Conference  was  conscientious  all  may 
agree.  But  whether  it  was  just  to  the  South  and  to 
Bishop  Andrew,  and  whether  the  concessions  made 
to  the  extremists  were  wise,  are  matters  about  which 
good  men  will  differ.  One  thing  at  least  the  Confer- 
ence seems  not  to  have  fully  realized ;  that  in  taking 
this  extra  judicial  step  to  concihate  one  party,  it  drove 
away  another  and  a  more  important  one,  for  the 
South  became  solid  on  the  subject  of  dividing  legally, 
if  possible,  but  of  dividing  at  all  cost. 

The  Bishops  made  out  two  plans.  In  the  published 
one  they  gave  him  no  work.  Bishop  Soule  protested 
against  this,  and  Bishop  Morris  in  a  private  letter  to 
Bishop  Andrew  explains  why  it  was  done  : 

*'  Cincinnati,  February  19,  1845. 

Rev.  Bishop  Andrew  : 
Dear  Brother — I  send  this  letter,  presuming  that 
you  will  soon  have  returned  from  the  Alabama  Con- 
ference. As  only  one  day  intervened  between  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  and  the  New  York  Annual  Conference, 
our  consultation  was  necessarily  a  hurried  one.  Many 
things  were  referred  to  us  besides  making  our  plan  of 
Episcopal  visitation,  so  that  if  we  made  some  mistakes 
it  would  be  no  subject  of  marvel.  It  was  suggested 
to  address  a  joint  note  to  you  inquiring  what  would 
be  your  wish  as  to  taking  part  of  the  work,  in  view  of 
the  final  action  of  the  General  Conference  in  your  case, 
but  as  some  of  the  Bishops  thought  it  might  be  con- 
strued into  an  improper  interference  with  your  free- 
dom of  choice,  that  was  dispensed  with  ;  but  it  was 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


363 


admitted  that  any  one  who  chose  to  make  an  indi- 
vidual communication,  might  do  so.  As  to  our  private 
correspondence,  I  believe  you  were  one  letter  behind, 
and  you  may  remember  that  when  I  requested  a  letter 
from  you  in  our  parting  interview  at  Brother  Lane's  you 
said  I  should  hear  from  you.  Under  these  circumstances 
I  made  myself  easy,  waiting  for  a  letter  from  you, 
never  supposing  that  I  was  expected  to  write  first, 
much  less  that  I  was  causing  you  any  concern  by  the 
omission  ;  and,  moreover,  I  supposed  Bishop  Soule, 
whose  work  embraced  your  residence,  would  give  you 
all  needful  information.  But  your  published  letter 
and  speeches  left  me  to  infer  that  our  omission  had 
grieved  you,  and  I  was  very  sorry  on  my  part,  and 
assure  you  that  my  failure  was  owing  to  the  circum- 
stances above  stated,  and  not  to  any  interruption  of 
the  personal  friendship  which  I  have  ever  felt  and  still 
feel  for  you,  and  trust  you  will  accept  this  explanation 
of  my  long-continued  silence. 

Many  curious  speculations  are  afloat  as  to  what 
the  Bishops  did  in  your  case  when  arranging  their  plan 
of  visitation,  and  why  they  did  it.  Some  who  appear  to 
know  but  little  of  the  subject  assume  to  explain  it  for 
us,  while  others  still  inquire,  *  Will  the  Bishops  ex- 
plain ?  '  Perhaps  they  will  at  the  proper  time,  but  I 
hope  not  so  as  to  anticipate  Bishop  Soule's  forthcom- 
ing defence.  But  as  this  letter  is  not  for  the  public 
eye,  but  for  your  own,  I  would  say  a  few  words  ex- 
planatory of  my  own  views  and  acts,  not  holding  any 
of  my  colleagues  accountable  for  them.  If  any  breth- 
ren have  inferred  from  the  published  *  Plan  of  Epis- 
copal Visitation,'  or  any  thing  else,  that  I  was  opposed 
to  your  continuing  in  the  oversight  South,  they  are 


3^4 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


mistaken  ;  and  if  any  have  inferred  that  I  was  of  opin- 
ion that  the  action  of  the  General  Conference  in  your 
case  was  according  to  our  disciplinary  provision,  they 
are  mistaken  ;  or  if  any  have  inferred,  as  it  appears 
some  have,  from  the  unpublished  *  Plan,'  or  anything 
else,  that  I  did  not  and  would  not,  under  all  circum- 
stances, respect  the  authority  and  action  of  the  Gen- 
eral Conference,  whether  I  accorded  with  it  in  opinion 
or  not,  they  are  mistaken  ;  but  most  of  all  are  they 
mistaken  who  suppose  1  would  '  add  insult  to  injury,* 
which  was  charged  upon  me  in  regard  to  our  published 
*  Plan,'  by  mass-meetings,  and  printed  in  our  official 
church  papers.  No,  verily.  While  I  respected  the 
authority  and  action  of  the  General  Conference,  I 
acted  in  perfect  good  faith  and  feeling  to  yourself  and 
the  South,  aiming  to  meet  their  wants  and  wishes,  as 
well  as  the  good  of  the  whole  Church,  so  far  as  I  un- 
derstood we  were  authorized  to  take  any  action  in 
the  premises.  Whether  you  would  take  part  of  the 
oversight  or  not  was  a  question  which  the  final  action 
of  the  General  Conference  devolved  on  yourself  to  de- 
cide. Of  course  we  could  not  decide  for  you,  your 
friends  could  not  decide  for  you,  and  as  you  were  ab- 
sent and  unapprised  of  the  final  state  of  the  case,  you 
could  not  then  and  there  decide  for  yourself;  nor 
could  we  defer  publishing  our  plan  as  the  time  of  the 
summer  Conference  was  upon  us.  Hence,  the  pub- 
lished *  Plan'  and  the  'Reserved  Plan,' in  anticipa- 
tion of  your  decision  to  take  work.  Now,  if  by  this 
course  of  procedure,  the  only  one  we  thought  ourselves 
at  liberty  to  pursue,  we  ha^'e  rendered  ourselves  un- 
acceptable to  the  South,  we  regret  but  cannot  help  it. 
So  far  as  I  have  gone,  however,  I  found  no  difficulty 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  365 

in  my  way.  On  my  last  year's  tour  I  presided  at 
three  Conferences  North  and  three  South,  as  we  now 
say,  and  my  intercourse  with  the  brethren  was  alike 
pleasant  on  both  sides  of  the  line.  How  far  South 
that  state  of  things  extends  with  me,  or  how  long  it 
may  continue,  I  cannot  say,  nor  am  I  anxious  to 
know.  If  the  present  *  Plan  '  should  continue,  it  will 
be  my  lot  to  go  southwest  next  fall  and  winter,  and 
in  that  event  I  expect  to  go,  provided  also  that  the 
way  may  be  left  open  for  me  to  do  so  consistently 
with  my  official  relation  there  and  my  official  respon- 
sibility to  the  authority  that  appointed  me.  Otherwise 
I  should  feel  absolved  from  the  obligation  to  attend 
the  Conference  in  that  direction,  and  will  cheerfully 
submit.  Here,  for  the  present,  my  mind  settles. 
Many  still  entertain  hope  of  the  unity  of  the  Church ; 
with  me  it  is  only  'hope  against  hope.'  Though  I 
would  not  limit  the  high  and  holy  one  of  Israel,  I  think 
amicable  separation  far  preferable  to  revolution,  or 
nominal  union  with  perpetual  strife,  but  as  the  plan  of 
amicable  separation  is  rejected  by  so  many  Confer- 
ences, I  see  no  prospect  of  realizing  that,  and  I  fear 
division  in  a  worse  form.  May  the  Lord  pity  us 
all. 

I  have  drawn  from  the  Conference  for  you  the 
past  year,  $59.82,  which  shall  be  forthcoming  at  the 
Louisville  Convention  in  cash  or  a  draft  as  good. 
Please  write  me  soon  ;  direct  to  Cincinnati,  O.,  which 
I  still  call  home,  though  I  stay  here  but  little.  Mrs. 
Morris  is  at  present  somewhat  afflicted,  but  I  trust  not 
dangerously.  My  own  health  is  good.  Bishop  Ham- 
line  is  sick.  Bishop  Janes  passed  through  this  place 
recently  on  his  way  home  from  Texas,  in  good  health. 


366 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


**  May  grace,  mercy,  and  peace  attend  you  and  all 
yours. 

I  am,  as  ever,  yours  with  much  esteem  and 
affection, 

"Thomas  A.  Morris." 

After  he  reached  Oxford,  he  received  the  following 
from  New  York : 

*'Rev.  W.  Winans,  from  the  Committee  to  whom 
was  referred  the  subject  of  preparing  resolutions  ex- 
pressive of  the  sympathy  of  this  meeting  with  Bishop 
Andrew,  reported  as  follows : 

We,  the  delegates  representing  the  Conferences  in 
slave-holding  States,  and  delegates  from  other  Con- 
ferences  assembled  with  us  in  the  lecture-room  of 
Greene  Street  Church,  on  the  first  day  of  June,  1844, 
have  unanimously 

Resolved y  That  we  have  felt  the  liveliest  sympathy 
with  the  Rev.  James  O.  Andrew,  one  of  the  Bishops 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  because  of  the 
extra-judicial  proceedings  had  against  him  in  the  Gen- 
eral Conference,  during  the  last  ten  days,  on  account 
of  his  connection  w^ith  slavery — a  connection  perfectly 
provided  for  in  the  Discipline  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  and  into  which  his  entrance  is  charg- 
able  with  no  fault  or  indiscretion.  These  proceedings, 
which  have  this  day  resulted  in  the  virtual  suspen- 
sion of  his  official  functions  as  Superintendent  of  the 
Church,  have  been  carried  on  without  the  exhibition 
of  any  charge  of  offence,  either  against  the  Discipline 
or  against  the  Divine  law,  but  have,  notwithstanding, 
been  persevered  in  upon  the  sole  ground  of  expediency. 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  367 


and  regulated  by  no  rule  but  the  lawless  prudence  and 
unrestrained  discretion  of  a  prejudiced  and  avowedly- 
interested  majority.  Thus  have  his  feelings  been  the 
mark  of  reiterated  attack  in  Conference  for  more  than 
ten  days,  without  the  common  privilege  of  knowing 
what  point  in  his  conduct  he  was  to  guard  against  the 
coming  assault,  and  without  knowing  what  defence 
his  assailants  would  regard  as  sacred.  Add  to  the 
annoyance  so  gratuitously  and  abundantly  furnished 
him  by  the  extra-judicial  proceedings  of  the  Confer- 
ence, he  has  had  to  endure  the  officious  and  indelicate 
misrepresentation  of  his  position  and  his  conduct  by 
the  offical  journal  of  the  Church  in  this  city  ;  whereby 
the  proceedings  against  him  in  the  Conference  have 
been  forestalled  and  prejudged,  and  public  opinion 
misled  and  vitiated.  We  deeply  sympathize  with  him 
in  these  unmerited  sufferings,  and  approve  of  the  deter- 
mination he  has  this  day  avowed  of  leaving  the  scene 
of  so  many  outrages  upon  his  sensibilities,  and  seeking 
in  the  home  whose  domestic  rights  have  been  made 
the  occasion  of  his  persecution  some  relief  to  his  feel- 
ings. With  the  amiable  partner  of  Bishop  Andrew, 
incidentally  involved  in  these  gratuitously  inflicted 
sufferings,  we  also  keenly  sympathize,  and  humbly 
pray  that  He  who  was  sore  wounded  in- the  house  of 
His  friends  may  minister  to  both  her  and  her  ex- 
cellent husband  those  consolations  which  will  sustain 
them  under  these  severe  trials. 

*'To  the  moral  and  official  conduct  of  Bishop  An- 
drew we  accord  the  highest  degree  of  approbation, 
and  pronounce,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  that 
could  his  persecutors  drive  him  from  the  Episcopal 
office,  they  would  rob  that  office  of  one  of  its  brightest 


368  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ornaments  and  of  one  of  its  worthiest  occupants. 
With  him,  in  these  proceedings,  we  have  had  a  com- 
mon interest,  and  success  in  his  suspension  from  office, 
on  account  of  the  matter  alleged  against  him,  would, 
in  effect,  be  the  disfranchisement  of  every  minister 
among  us  connected  with  slavery.  Hence,  with  him 
must  fall,  if  he  fall,  the  whole  Southern  Church.  Nay, 
with  him  must  fall  the  Discipline  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church.  His  cause,  then,  is  the  cause  of 
the  South,  of  the  Church,  of  the  Discipline.  Let  him 
be  comforted,  therefore,  by  the  recollection  that  his 
immolation  has  been  attempted  upon  the  altar  of  the 
Church's  unity,  that  his  fall  is  the  result  of  lawless 
might,  without  even  a  decent  pretext  on  the  score  of 
right,  of  Discipline,  or  of  Gospel  precept. 

**And  then,  on  motion,  the  report  was  adopted, 
and,  signed  by  the  Chairman  and  Secretary,  was  or- 
dered to  be  forwarded  to  Bishop  Andrew." 

The  above  is  a  true  copy  from  the  minutes  of  the 
proceedings  of  the  meeting  held  by  the  delegates 
from  the  Conferences  in  the  slave-holding  States  and 
others,  in  the  lecture-room  of  Greene  Street  Church, 
on  Tuesday,  June  i,  1844. 
New  York,  June  6,  1844. 

L.  Pierce,  Chairman. 

Leroy  M.  Lee,  Sec. 

The  South,  almost  to  a  man,  condemned  the  action 
of  the  Conference  in  this  case,  and  from  every  quarter 
Bishop  Andrew  received  letters  of  sympathy.  The 
treatment  he  had  received  became  the  theme  of  edi- 
tors, politicians,  ministers  of  all  denominations,  and 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  369 


of  gentlemen  and  ladies  in  private  circles.  Meet- 
ings were  held  and  resolutions  passed.  The  North 
generally  approved  the  action  of  the  Conference,  and 
generally  pursued  the  opposite  course.  His  name 
was  covered  with  vituperation  and  abuse.  But  amid 
it  all  he  was  calm  and  serene.  Conscious  of  the  inno- 
cence of  his  heart  and  the  rectitude  of  his  conduct, 
he  was  neither  elevated  by  the  extravagant  praise  of 
friends  nor  depressed  by  the  extravagant  abuse  of 
enemies ;  and  never  did  he,  by  word  or  act,  do  aught 
to  intensify  the  prevailing  bitterness.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  had  words  of  charity  and  extenuation  for  his 
foes,  and  ever  urged  his  friends  not  to  return  raihng 
for  railing,  but  rather  to  seek  peace  and  pursue  it. 

From  the  North,  it  is  just  to  say  that  he  received 
letters  from  many  brethren,  full  of  expressions  of  per- 
sonal confidence  and  esteem.  The  two  following  are 
specimens  : 

**  Cincinnati,  October  3,  1844. 

Dear  Bishop  Andrew  : 

"  Yours  of  the  5th  ult.  has  been  received.  I  was 
pleased  that  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  render  you  any 
service,  and,  by  skillful  management,  I  got  the  ex- 
penses actually  paid  out  in  attending  to  the  business 
reduced  to  two  dollars. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  learn  that  your  health  is  not  very 
good  ;  hope  you  will  soon  be  restored  to  your  usual 
condition  of  health.  I  accept,  with  grateful  emotions, 
your  condolence  in  view  of  my  severe  bereavement, 
and  have  no  doubt  I  shall  have  your  continued  sym- 
pathy and  prayers. 

I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  think  it  possible  you 
i6* 


370 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


may  visit  Cincinnati  in  the  course  of  the  next  six 
months.  I  am  stationed  at  Wesley  Chapel.  We 
would  be  glad  to  see  you  and  have  you  preach  for  us. 
You  do  the  people  here  injustice  when  you  suppose 
they  would  be  unwilling  to  receive  you  as  a  preacher, 
and  in  the  exercise  of  all  the  functions  of  the  work 
and  office  of  an  elder  in  the  church.  The  only  objec- 
tion that  I  hear  of  is  against  your  exercising  the  office 
of  an  itinerant  general  superintendent  in  the  church. 
There  would  be  objections  to  your  presiding  in  a 
conference  and  ordaining  preachers  in  Cincinnati  while 
you  are  considered  to  be  the  owner  of  slaves,  but  in 
every  other  respect  your  ministrations  would  be  very 
acceptable  among  us,  just  as  Dr.  Pearce,  Dr.  Capers, 
Dr.  Winans  would  be,  whom  you  know  are  very 
popular  among  the  people  of  Cincinnati. 

The  Ohio  Conference  refused  to  concur  in  the 
resolution  of  the  General  Conference  altering  the  re- 
strictive ride,  132  to  I.  They  are  wholly  against  the 
division  of  the  church,  and  determined  to  have  no  par- 
ticipation in  it,  but  in  case  the  South  should  establish 
an  organization  of  their  own,  the  Ohio  Conference  will 
be  as  ready  as  any  other  conference  to  give  them 
their  share  of  the  property.  I  have  a  very  great  ab- 
horrence to  a  division  of  the  church,  and  I  think  all 
good  people  ought  to  unite  their  influence  and  en- 
deavor to  prevent  it.  The  most  competent  judges 
say  that  if  the  separation  takes  place  the  title  of  all  the 
church  property  in  the  South  will  be  vitiated.  It  is 
now  deeded  *  for  the  use  of  the  members  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  of 
America.'  The  Southern  organization  could  not  re- 
tain this  title.    Of  course  the  original  grantors  or  their 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


371 


heirs-at-law  might  successfully  sue  for  the  property, 
it  having  been  diverted  from  its  original  design  as  set 
forth  in  the  deeds  which  were  executed  at  the  time  of 
sale  or  donation.  I  have  many  other  reasons  why  I 
am  opposed  to  this  division,  but  have  not  time  to 
name  them  now,  and  they  are  such  as  would  operate 
on  and  affect  my  mind  equally  if  I  resided  at  the 
South,  and  I  believe  I  would  be  more  strongly  opposed 
to  a  division  if  I  lived  there  than  I  now  am.  I  will 
mention  only  one  more.  I  most  firmly  believe  if  this 
division  takes  place  civil  commotions  will  immediately 
follow,  for  there  are  certainly  more  reasons  for  the  sep- 
aration of  the  States  than  for  the  division  of  the  Church, 
and  it  might  soon  be  pleaded  as  a  matter  obviously 
necessary  and  indispensable  to  the  South.  I  am 
anxious  that  the  convention  to  be  held  at  Louisville 
next  May  might  be  put  off  one  year,  so  as  to  give 
the  conferences  in  the  non-slave-holding  States  an 
opportunity  to  hold  another  session  and  appoint  one 
delegate  from  each  to  attend  that  convention  and  ad- 
just with  the  Southern  brethren  some  plan  of  com- 
promise, to  be  submitted  to  a  general  conference,  to 
be  called  in  May,  1846.  What  think  you?  I  am 
very  anxious  the  effort  should  be  made.  I  must  now 
stop.    Rember  me  to  Sister  Andrew. 

Yours  in  love, 

''J.  F.  Wright. 
"P.  S.  It  is  perfectly  idle,  if  not  foolish,  to  talk  of 
a  friendly  separation  in  a  Christian  spirit.  They  might 
as  well  talk  of  men  fighting  in  a  good  humor.  If  the 
division  takes  place  perpetual  war  will  be  declared 
and  be  carried  on  through  all  time.  It  is  said  they 
quarrel  now  !  So  they  do  ;  but  what  they  do  now  is  a 


372 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


small  matter,  and  a  mere  trifle  compared  with  what 
they  would  do  if  they  were  severed.  This  friendly 
division  reminds  me  of  the  Irishman  who  wished  to 
save  his  load  which  was  in  his  gun.  He  told  his  wife 
to  pull  the  trigger  easy  while  he  held  his  hat  to  catch 
the  bullet.  She  pulled  easy,  but  the  gun  went  off  hard, 
and  the  old  fellow  lost  his  hat.  The  plan  I  propose 
would  enable  the  mstructed  delegates  from  the  non- 
slave-holding  conferences  and  the  convention  to  make 
an  effort  to  reconcile  the  matter  and  agree  upon  some 
plan  of  compromise.  It  would  afford  me  much  pleas- 
ure, and,  I  believe,  thousands  more  much  satisfaction 
to  have  the  trial  made,  and  even  if  it  failed  we  would 
be  no  worse  off  than  we  are  now,  and  would  appear 
better." 

"  MiDDLETOWN,  September  27,  1844. 

Reverend  and  Very  Dear  Sir  : 

"  There  are  reasons  of  great  weight  in  my  own  mind 
why  I  should  address  you.  They  are  entirely  personal 
and  private.  No  one  is  acquainted  with  my  design,  and 
I  have  no  wish  that  any  eye  besides  your  own  should 
look  upon  what  I  write.  I  can  but  fear  that  I  shall 
be  regarded  as  taking  an  unwarrantable  liberty  and 
yet  I  know  your  habitual  disposition  toward  those 
who  have  offended  you  too  well  not  to  hope  that  you 
will  pardon  this  intrusion,  if  such  you  shall  be  con- 
strained to  regard  it.  The  painful  events  of  the  last 
few  months  could  hardly  fail  to  change  the  feelings 
and  opinions  you  were  wont  to  entertain  toward  me. 
I  regret  this  very  deeply,  but  I  do  not  complain  of  it. 
Undoubtedly  I  feel  the  sacrifice  I  have  been  called  to 
make  of  nearly  all  of  my  early  and  most  valued  friend- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  373 


ships  and  Christian  attachments.  My  sensibilities  are 
but  too  acute — I  suffer  but  too  keenly,  but  I  am  try- 
ing to  bear  what  I  cannot  prevent  or  avoid,  in  such  a 
way  as  not  to  add  the  reproaches  of  my  own  con- 
science to  the  rebukes  of  those  who  through  life  have 
been  my  most  valued  friends.  Many  injurious  insin- 
uations and  erroneous  statements  I  shall  bear  in  si- 
lence. In  the  present  state  of  public  sentiment  it 
would  be  of  little  use  to  correct  a  misapprehension  or  a 
misstatement  through  the  press.  I  mean  to  let  all  of 
these  things  pass,  trusting  to  the  future  and  to  the 
charity  of  religion.  I  have  thought,  however,  that 
with  regard  to  some  individuals  whose  confidence  I 
have  enjoyed,  and  toward  whom  I  have  long  cherished 
the  most  ardent,  boundless  affection,  I  may  take  the 
liberty  of  saying  something  in  my  own  cause.  I  act 
on  this  ground  in  writing  to  you. 

"  I  cannot  doubt  that  in  the  transactions  and  scenes 
of  the  General  Conference  many  things  may  have  oc- 
curred to  injure  your  feelings  toward  me.  I  could 
but  infer  from  your  altered  manner  that  you  had  heard, 
or  supposed  that  I  had  said  or  done  things  justly 
offensive  to  you.  The  atmosphere  was  rife  with  all 
sorts  of  reports.  Men's  minds  were  excited  and  in  a 
state  to  draw  strong  inferences  and  receive  false  im- 
pressions. I  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  speak  to  you 
upon  the  subject  of  my  fears  in  the  matter.  I  do  not 
know  now  that  you  ever  heard  or  suspected  anything 
at  variance  with  my  professions  of  respect  and  affec- 
tion toward  you.  I  wish,  however,  to  declare  to  you 
in  this  private  and  solemn  manner,  what  I  expect  to 
meet  in  the  last  judgment.  I  am  not  conscious  of  ever 
having  a  feeling  or  an  opinion  in  regard  to  you  incom- 


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The  Life  and  Letters  of 


patible  with  the  highest  respect  or  most  ardent  affec- 
tion. I  do  not  think  that  I  uttered  a  word  in  public 
or  private  inconsistent  with  the  letter  and  spirit  of  this 
declaration.  I  felt  and  declared  the  fullest  confidence 
in  the  purity  of  your  intentions,  both  in  what  preceded 
the  General  Conference  and  in  the  painful  part  you 
were  called  to  take  in  its  affairs.  God  is  my  witness 
that  I  most  ardently  desired  and  faithfully  labored  to 
avoid  the  issue  to  which  we  were  led.  God  is  my 
witness  that  I  never  desired  or  plotted  your  degrada- 
tion or  mortification.  I  think  I  could  freely  have  laid 
down  my  life  to  prevent  or  heal  our  difficulties.  If 
there  was  a  meeting  of  the  delegates  to  plot  your  in- 
jury, I  did  not  know  it  and  do  not  know  it.  The  part 
I  took  in  the  procedure  of  the  Conference  was  not 
based  on  any  belief  of  your  guilt  or  contamination,  or 
any  disrespect  to  Southern  rights.  I  stated  my 
grounds  of  action  in  your  hearing  before  the  Confer- 
ence. They  certainly  appeared  to  you  and  to  many 
others  insufficient.  I  am  not  now  to  vindicate  them. 
I  thought  I  did  right.  I  followed,  at  a  great  sacrifice 
of  personal  feeling,  my  sense  of  duty.  I  know  I  shall 
fail  of  satisfying  you  that  I  acted  wisely  if  I  should  try 
to  do  so.  I  am  not  concerned  to  do  that.  I  would 
gladly  persuade  you  that  my  motives  were  upright. 
Will  you,  my  dear  venerated  brother  and  friend  of  my 
youth,  pardon  the  liberty  I  take  in  thus  addressing 
you  ?  I  mean  nothing  but  the  highest  respect.  I  do 
not  ask  to  enjoy  your  confidence  as  formerly.  I  shall 
not  think  hard  of  it  if  you  decline  answering  this  let- 
ter. You  may  not  think  it  prudent  to  communicate 
with  me  on  this  topic.  You  might  not,  even  if  I  en- 
joyed far  more  of  your  confidence.    I  do  not  ask  for 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


375 


an  answer,  though  I  would  receive  it  gladly  ;  but  I 
earnestly  beg  that  you  will  credit  what  I  have  written 
above.  I  entreat  you  not  to  believe  that  I  have  con- 
scioitsly  acted  the  part  of  an  enemy.  Believe,  if  you 
can,  that  I  have  maintained  toward  you  the  heart  of  a 
brother.  We  shall  stand  before  God  together  ;  we 
love  a  common  Saviour.  I  am  sure  the  integrity  of 
our  hearts  will  appear  hereafter.  It  is  no  easy  thing 
for  me  to  consent  that  you  should  hold  me  for  a  hypo- 
crite or  a  traitor.  I  am  neither.  With  all  my  imper- 
fections I  am  neither.  I  dare  not  attempt  to  express 
the  strength  of  the  undiminished  love  and  confidence 
I  feel  toward  you.  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  write 
as  I  do  but  for  the  fact  that  I  have  no  conceivable 
motive  for  doing  so  but  the  Christian  motive  I  have 
alleged.  I  could  not  write  so  for  the  public  eye,  but 
in  all  humility,  and  it  may  be  of  no  small  sacrifice  of 
self-respect,  I  think  it  right  that  I  should  state  my 
feehngs  to  you.  You  have  a  Christian  interest  in  not 
thinking  worse  of  me  than  you  ought  to  think.  I  wish 
you  to  have  this  testimony  in  your  possession — this 
declaration.  Let  it  be  between  us.  Let  God  look 
upon  it  and  judge  me  as  I  am  sincere.  You  will  not 
be  unwilling  that  I  should  invoke  his  blessings  upon 
one  whom  I  so  many  years  regarded  my  best  friend, 
I  pray — I  have  often  prayed  that  He  will  support  you 
in  all  your  trials.  After  all  I  have  said  above  it  would 
be  superfluous  to  add  more  than  my  signature. 

Stephen  Olin. 

Rev.  Bishop  Andrew." 

We  do  not  know  that  Bishop  Andrew's  feelings 
were  alienated  from  Dr.  Olin  on  account  of  his  course 


3/6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


in  the  Conference,  but  we  do  know  that  after  this 
letter  the  old  love  came  back,  and  to  Olin's  death 
their  intercourse  continued  ;  and  we  know  that  on  his 
dying  bed  he  made  affectionate  mention  of  Dr.  Olin's 
name.  He  believed  he  was  the  greatest  of  American 
preachers,  and  loved  him  with  an  undying  love. 

One  man  from  the  North,  who  was  a  tower  of 
strength,  stood  by  him  shoulder  to  shoulder  in  all 
this  conflict.  That  man  was  Joshua  Soule,  the  senior 
bishop  of  the  church.  Born  and  brought  up  in  Maine, 
living  in  Ohio,  never  a  slaveholder,  nor  a  pro-slavery 
man,  with  every  interest  to  bind  him  to  the  section  in 
which  he  lived,  he  yet  came  to  the  South  because  he 
believed  the  South  was  right — a  step  that  brought 
upon  him  great  odium  among  his  Northern  friends. 

The  summer  was  spent  with  his  family  at  home.  He 
was  kept  busy  answering  letters  and  preaching  in  the 
neighborhood  of  home.  In  the  fall,  being  invited  by 
Bishop  Soule  to  attend  his  Conferences,  he  joined  him 
in  September  at  Frankfort,  Ky. ,  the  seat  of  the  Ken- 
tucky Conference.  From  this  point  Bishop  Soule  went 
west,  while  Bishop  Andrew  went  east.  Having  no 
separate  work,  he  simply  assisted  Bishop  Soule  in  his 
district.  He  first  visited  Nashville  ;  then,  after  re- 
turning home,  went  into  Virginia,  visiting  Lynchburg, 
Richmond,  Petersburg,  and  other  places.  At  Peters- 
burg he  dedicated  a  new  church.  The  following  ex- 
tract from  a  letter  written  to  his  wife  from  Richmond 
w^ill  show  what  were  the  workings  of  his  heart  and 
mind  in  those  days  of  excitement  and  trouble.  After 
speaking  of  heaven,  he  says  :  "Is  not  the  thought,  the 
hope  of  this  enough  to  rouse  and  animate  our  souls  to 
constantly  increasing  efforts  after  holiness  of  heart  ? 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


Z77 


Oh  !  I  know  we  are  poor  and  vile  and  worthless.  We 
nothing  are,  and  nothing  have.  But  oh  !  blessed  and 
encouraging  thought,  Christ  Jesus  is  our  all  in  all. 
He  hath  loved  us  even  when  we  were  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  sins.  Even  then,  when  we  had  not  even  a 
gracious  desire  to  recommend  us  to  his  notice,  he 
pitied  us,  watched  over  us  and  cared  for  us,  and  called 
us  ;  and  shall  he  not  especially  bless  us  when  we  have 
heard  and  are  trying  to  obey  his  call — when  our  hearts 
cry  out  for  the  living  God  and  when  he  knows  we  are 
sincerely  desirous  to  please  him  ?  Yes,  God  will  hear 
and  bless  us  both.  Oh  that  he  may  thoroughly  sanc- 
tify us  by  his  Holy  Spirit." 

He  returned  home  from  Virginia,  and  joining  Bishop 
Soule  at  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  took  him  to 
his  home  in  Oxford,  and  thence,  in  his  own  carriage, 
went  with  him  to  the  Georgia  Conference  at  Eatonton 
in  January,  1845. 

The  question  of  division  was  virtually  settled  before 
the  General  Conference  adjourned,  for  it  was  referred 
by  that  body  to  the  Southern  Annual  Conferences, 
which  with  great  unanimity  at  their  next  sessions  ap- 
pointed delegates  to  meet  in  Convention  at  Louisville 
the  following  May.  The  South  did  not  really  desire 
division,  but  after  the  course  of  the  General  Confer- 
ence it  was  evident  that  a  separate  organization  was 
the  only  way  of  preserving  Methodism  in  this  section — 
the  only  hope  of  holding  the  master  to  that  church 
and  of  carrying  the  gospel  to  the  slave.  The  intoler- 
ance of  Northern  extremists  had  made  the  entire  South 
exceedingly  sensitive,  and  forced  this  alternative  upon 
Southern  Methodists.    It  was  division  or  death. 

However  much  Bishop  Andrew  may  have  regretted 


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The  Life  and  Letters  of 


this  necessity — and  he  did  most  profoundly  regret  it — 
still  he  gave  the  Louisville  Convention  his  fullest  en- 
dorsement. In  April  he  proceeded  to  Louisville. 
The  Convention  met  at  the  time  appointed.  All  the 
Annual  Conferences  South  were  represented  by  their 
delegates.  Bishops  Andrew,  Soule,  and  Morris  were 
all  there.  The  decision  of  the  Convention  to  form  a 
second  -  General  Conference  was  almost  unanimous; 
and  a  call  was  made  to  elect  delegates  to  such  a  Con- 
ference, appointed  to  meet  in  Petersburg,  Va.,  the 
next  May.  And  thus,  as  a  new  Annual  Conference 
for  any  reason  whatsoever  is  set  up  and  endowed  with 
the  peculiar  autonomy  of  such  a  body,  so  was  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South  organized  with- 
out revolution  or  schism  or  secession,  under  consent 
given  by  the  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  and  by  authority  of  the  Annual 
Conferences  represented  in  the  Convention  at  Louis- 
ville. No  doctrine  was  changed,  no  polity  altered, 
no  usages,  rites,  or  customs  modified.  The  same 
laborers  did  the  same  work  in  the  same  fields,  just  as 
they  had  been  trained  to  do.  It  was  hoped  that  this 
measure  would  not  only  perpetuate  Methodism  in  the 
South,  but  that  it  would  also  be  the  end  of  strife  be- 
tween the  sections  of  the  church.  The  Bishops  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  after  this  Convention, 
resolved  to  withdraw  from  the  South  and  leave  that 
whole  territory  to  the  Southern  Church.  Bishop  Red- 
ding wrote  as  follows : 

**  New  York,  July  4,  1845. 

Rev.  Bishop  Andrew  : 

''Dear  Brother — Though  you  and  I  have  differed 
in  opinion  in  some  things,  I  believe  there  has  been  no 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


379 


personal  contention  between  us,  and  I  trust  nothing 
but  good  feeling  between  us.  So  I  think  I  can  write 
a  private  note  to  you  without  having  it  published,  as 
I  wish  as  far  as  possible  to  avoid  getting  into  the 
strife.  A  meeting  has  been  invited  of  the  bishops  ad- 
hering to  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Bishops 
Waugh,  Morris,  Janes,  and  myself  attended.  We 
judged  that,  in  consideration  of  the  Acts  of  the  Louis- 
ville Convention,  we  could  not  be  justified  in  presid- 
ing in  the  Annual  Conferences  represented  in  said 
convention.  Our  resolution  on  that  point  will  soon 
be  published.  Bishop  Morris  and  Janes  desired 
going  to  the  Conferences  assigned  to  them  in  the 
South.  And  as  I  suppose  the  care  of  those  Confer- 
ences will  now  devolve  on  you  and  Bishop  Soule,  I 
thought  it  proper  you  should  have  this  early  notice. 
As  part  of  the  year  for  Episcopal  claims  on  the  Con- 
ferences for  annual  allowances  and  traveling  expenses 
is  past,  we  agree  to  collect  for  you  arid  Bishop  Soule 
as  we  have  done  to  the  end  of  the  year,  that  is  to  the 
close  of  the  New  Jersey  Conference.  I  suppose  you 
and  Bishop  Soule  will  do  the  same  for  us  in  the  South 
for  this  year.  I  suppose  also  the  widow  Roberts' 
claims  on  each  Conference  will  be  paid  by  the  South- 
ern Conferences  for  this  year.  After  that  T  suppose 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  will  provide  for  Mrs. 
Roberts,  and  each  church  will  provide  for  its  own 
bishop.  I  have  been  grieved  a  thousand  times  on  ac- 
count of  the  division  of  the  church,  but  now  as  it  is 
divided,  I  wish  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  promote 
peace  and  good  feeling  between  the  two  bodies. 
Affectionately  yours, 

Elijah  Redding. 


38o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


P.  S. — We  have  given  Bishop  Soule  information 
on  the  above  subject  in  a  letter  dated  this  day.  We 
met  2d  inst. ,  parted  last  night,  and  I  am  left  alone  just 
about  to  fly  to  the  Black  River  Conference." 

The  desire  of  the  venerable  New  Englander  for 
peace  was  heartily  responded  to  by  Bishop  An- 
drew. The  idea  that  an  organic  union  of  churches  is 
necessary  to  peace  between  them,  that  men  of  the 
same  faith  and  forking  in  the  same  ways  are  com- 
pelled to  erect  altar  against  altar  because  their  Gen- 
eral Assemblies  are  different,  had  not  entered  into  the 
heads  of  Methodist  preachers.  If  Canada  Methodists 
and  Wesleyan  Methodists  and  American  Methodists 
could  work  harmoniously,  why  could  not  Northern 
and  Southern  Methodists  do  so  ?  It  was  only  after 
all  a  division  of  labor.  Annual  Conferences,  Districts, 
and  Quarterly  Conferences  all  move  in  their  own 
spheres.  Why  could  not  General  Conferences  do  the 
same  ?  The  division  of  Christ's  Church  is  merely  a 
division  for  greater  efficiency,  and  the  union  of  great 
or  small  bodies  is  a  union  for  greater  strength.  There 
was  no  expectation  on  the  part  of  the  South  of  cross- 
ing the  line  made  by  the  General  Conference,  nor  did 
the  General  Conference  think  the  North  would  feel 
bound  to  go  across  it  either.  The  Ohio  Conference 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  had  never  crossed 
the  line  separating  its  territory  from  that  of  the  Ken- 
tucky Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
then  why  should  she  cross  that  line  when  the  suffix 
South  was  added  to  the  Kentucky  Conference  ?  This 
was  a  natural  and  reasonable  expectation,  based  upon 
the  acts  of  the  General  Conference,  and  upon  the  uni- 
versal usage  of  the  churches.    Alas !  that  it  was  not 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


381 


realized.  Perhaps,  however,  it  was  too  much  to  ex- 
pect. A  war  of  pamphlets  set  up,  in  which  such 
giants  as  Bascom,  and  Peck,  and  Bond,  and  Elliot 
alone  could  fight. 

Bishop  Andrew,  now  fully  reinstated,  had  his  hands 
full  of  work,  since  between  himself  and  Bishop  Soule 
the  entire  Southern  work  was  divided.  His  fall  tour 
began  at  Frankfort,  Ky.,  which  place  he  reached  after 
a  very  wearisome  trip  by  public  conveyance.  From 
Oxford  to  Frankfort  was  not  less  than  five  hundred 
miles  over  mountains  and  valleys. 

The  Conference  then  included  all  the  State  of  Ken- 
tucky. There  were  ten  districts  and  nearly  thirty- 
eight  thousand  members.  Bascom,  whose  fame  had 
filled  the  continent,  and  who  was  now  the  object  of 
very  bitter  attack  because  of  his  warm  Southernism  ; 
Kavanaugh,  Lee,  Dandy,  and  Edward  Stephenson 
were  among  the  older  members.  The  Conference 
was  on  the  border  and  times  were  exciting,  but  the 
Bishop  presided  to  the  satisfaction  of  all. 

In  October,  after  a  wearisome  stage  journey  through 
Nashville  and  Chattanooga  he  reached  the  Holston 
Conference  at  Athens,  Tenn.  This  plucky  little  body 
had  continued  to  grow  and  had  now  thirty  thousand 
members  scattered  over  parts  of  three  States.  Mc- 
Annally  was  teaching  in  Knoxville.  The  clear- 
headed Stringfield  was  agent  for  Holston  College, 
Sevier,  Cunningham,  James  Atkins,  and  Timothy  Sul- 
lins  among  the  Presiding  Elders,  and  E.  E.  Wiley  was 
in  Emory  and  Henry  College,  where  he  was  to  re- 
main for  near  forty  years.  Among  the  names  of  the 
unordained  men  were  R.  A.  Young,  W.  G.  E.  Cun- 
nyngham,  and  J.  S.  Burnett. 


382 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


The  work  being  done  here,  the  Bishop  made  his  way 
through  the  beautiful  valley  of  Southwestern  Virginia, 
and  across  the  entire  Old  Dominion  to  Norfolk,  where 
he  met  the  Virginia  Conference.  At  this  Conference 
Holland  N.  McTyiere  was  admitted  on  trial  and  sta- 
tioned in  Williamsburg. 

From  this  Conference  had  come  some  of  the  ablest 
speeches  made  in  his  defence  in  New  York,  and  no- 
where was  he  welcomed  with  warmer  affection. 
Leaving  Portsmouth  he  came  by  water  to  Plymouth, 
N.  C,  and  thence  to  the  quiet  old  town  of  Washing- 
ton, where  he  met  the  North  Carolina  Conference. 
The  South  CaroHna  Conference  still  reached  to  the 
Cape  Fear  River,  and  the  Virginia  took  the  northeast 
of  the  State,  but  there  were  twenty  thousand  white 
members  in  the  bounds  of  the  North  Carolina  Confer- 
ence alone.  Allen  S.  Andrews,  who  watched  at  the 
dying  bed  of  the  bishop  twenty- six  years  after  this, 
was  a  young  man  stationed  at  Plymouth.  Peter  Daub, 
whose  tract  on  baptism  made  Marvin  a  Methodist, 
was  on  a  district.  The  Conference  was  a  harmonious 
one,  and  Charles  B.  Tippett,  for  a  long  time  book- 
agent  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  left  for  New 
Orleans  specially  commissioned  by  the  Bishop  to  call 
at  Oxford,  for  as  yet  there  was  no  alienation  between 
the  divided  Conferences.  When  the  Conference  was 
over  he  went  to  Fayetteville,  N.  C,  where  the  South 
Carolina  Conference  was  to  meet.  Here  he  was  at 
home.  The  sorrows  he  had  passed  through,  and  the 
persecution,  as  they  thought  it,  that  he  had  met 
with,  made  him  doubly  dear  to  these  old  yoke-fel- 
lows. He  reached  Athens  in  time  to  preside  over  the 
Georgia  Conference  in  January,  and  after  resting  a 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  383 


little  while  went  to  Monticello,  Fla.,  where  he  pre- 
sided over  the  brave  little  bands  of  frontiersmen  (not 
thirty-five  of  them),  who  were  endeavoring  to  occupy 
all  of  East  and  Middle  Flprida,  and  nearly  half  of 
Georgia. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1846  before  he  returned  to 
hi 3  Oxford  home. 

Let  the  reader  now  take  his  map  and  trace  out  this 
circuit :  From  the  middle  of  Georgia  to  Kentucky, 
and  thence  eastward  and  southward  till  he  reaches 
Monticello,  in  Florida ;  and  thence  again  northward 
home,  and  remember  that  but  few  railways  were  in 
operation  then,  that  almost  every  mile  of  this  exten- 
sive journey  was  made  by  horse-carriage,  and  then 
consider  the  wearing  work  of  presiding  at  the  Con- 
ference, and  he  will  have  an  idea  of  the  privations 
entailed  upon  Bishop  Andrew  in  those  days. 

Rest  was  sweet,  but  was  not  for  long.  In  April  he 
began  his  journey  again,  for  the  General  Conference 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South,  which  was 
to  meet  at  Petersburg,  Va.,  May  ist.  Judge  Long- 
street  had  joined  him  in  Charleston  as  one  of  the  dele- 
gates from  the  Georgia  Conference.  In  company 
with  Thomas  Stringfield,  he  was  with  the  Bishop  at 
John  Mood's.  As  there  was  not  a  doubt  that  the 
plan  of  separation  would  go  at  once  into  effect,  the 
brethren  were  discussing,  says  Dr.  Mood,  who  as  a 
boy  was  present,  what  should  be  done  with  the  share 
of  church  funds  which  would  come  to  the  Southern 
church.  Bishop  Andrew  expressed  his  opinion  that 
the  book  concern  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
should  be  employed  to  do  all  the  work  for  the 
South. 


384 


The  Life  arid  Letters  of 


**Why,  James,"  indignantly  ^said  Mrs.  Mood, 
^*  would  you  have  anything  to  do  with  them  after 
they  treated  you  so  ?  "  The  Judge  was  of  the  same 
opinion  as  the  good  Catherine,  and  expressed  himself 
right  warmly. 

The  Bishop  smiled,  and  said  :  "  Before  Brother 
Longstreet  went  to  New  York  he  thought  all  the 
Northern  Methodists  were  good,  and  now  he  does  not 
think  there  are  any  good  ;  "  but  he  held  to  his  opinion. 
The  alliance  between  the  churches,  he  thought,  should 
be  as  close  as  possible. 

The  General  Conference  at  Petersburg  did  but  little 
more  than  adjust  itself  to  the  changed  condition  of 
affairs,  elect  an  agent  for  its  publishing  interests,  edi- 
tors for  a  Review,  and  the  Advocates  and  two  bishops. 
Robert  Paine  and  William  Capers  were  chosen 
bishops.  There  were  now  nineteen  Conferences, 
327,284  white  members,  124,811  colored  members. 
There  were  four  bishops,  three  of  them  able  to  work. 
His  new  colleagues,  William  Capers  and  Robert  Paine, 
were  old  and  valued  friends.  With  Dr.  Capers  his  re- 
lations had  been  of  the  closest  kind  from  his  boyhood. 
Robert  Paine  had  been  with  him  in  the  General  Con- 
ference of  1832,  and  he  had  given  him  an  appoint- 
ment in  the  first  conference  over  which  he  had  pre- 
sided. The  beauty  of  his  character,  the  strength  of 
his  intellect,  and  the  extent  of  his  culture  had  all 
drawn  the  Bishop  to  him.  They  were  most  intimate 
friends  to  the  very  last.  Few  men  ever  held  a  higher 
place  in  his  confidence,  or  a  warmer  one  in  his  heart, 
and  these  feelings  were  fully  reciprocated  by  his 
younger  colleague.  His  relation  to  William  Capers 
we  have  already  seen. 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  385 

The  whole  South,  with  the  exception  of  Maryland 
and  the  valley  of  Virginia,  then  in  the  Baltimore  Con- 
ference, was  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  new  General 
Conference.  After  the  adjournment  of  the  General 
Conference,  he  returned  to  Oxford  and  rested  till 
September,  when  he  went  to  Covington,  Ky.  Here 
he  presided  over  the  Kentucky  Conference,  the 
newly  organized  Louisville  Conference  at  Hopkins- 
ville,  and  then  over  the  Tennessee,  Memphis,  Missis- 
sippi, and  Alabama  Conferences.  He  reached  home 
in  the  winter  of  1847,  after  being  absent  during  nearly 
the  whole  of  1846. 
17 


386 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  X. 
METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH  SOUTH. 
1847-1855. 

First  Book. — Episcopal  Visitations. — Interest  in  Missions. — Mrs.  An- 
drew's Sickness  and  Death. — Letters  from  Bishops  Capers  and  Paine. 

HE  now  rested  a  little  while  from  his  very  fatigu- 
ing labors.  Bishop  Soule,  still  wise  in  counsel, 
was  infirm,  and  Capers  and  Paine  were  but  just  now 
in  the  office,  and  looked  to  Andrew  largely  for  ad- 
vice and  direction.  At  this  time  he  was  in  his  prime 
as  a  bishop.  He  was  a  little  over  fifty  years  old,  and 
was  in  comparatively  vigorous  health.  He  had  made 
rapid  and  constant  improvement  since  he  had  been  a 
bishop,  and  while  in  many  respects  he  had  not  been 
a  student,  for  he  had  been  cut  off  from  his  books 
during  most  of  the  time,  he  had  been  compelled  to 
study  men,  and  their  adaptations  to  work,  and  in  this 
important  science  of  appointing  preachers  he  had  be- 
come proficient.  Bishop  Pierce,  while  admitting  that 
he  ceased  to  pfeach  with  the  imperial  power  which 
marked  him  before  his  elevation  to  his  office,  says 
that  this  did  not  arise  from  a  failure  of  mental  vigor 
as  much  as  from  the  fact  that  Bishop  Andrew's  style 
was  magnificent.  Grand  conceptions,  and  rich,  lux- 
uriant verbiage  characterized  his  preaching  when  he 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


387 


allowed  himself  full  sweep,  but  when  he  became  a 
bishop,  knowing  how  such  a  style  would  captivate 
the  half-educated  young  preachers,  and  that  in  an  ef- 
fort to  secure  it  they  would  lose  the  simplicity  which 
should  mark  their  ministry,  he  tried  to  adopt  a  sim- 
plicity of  expression  for  which  he  was  unfitted  by 
nature,  and  in  endeavoring  to  confine  himself  to  the 
commonplaces  he  cramped  himself.  I  think  it  pos- 
sible that  the  bishop  preached  with  more  power  away 
from  Georgia  and  South  Carolina  than  in  these  old 
homes,  since  the  verdict  of  those  who  heard  him  in 
Texas  and  Virginia  is  that  his  preaching  was  at  this 
time  eloquent  and  powerful.  I  doubt,  however,  whether 
any  man  could  have  had  his  temperament  and  do  his 
work  and  still  preach  with  the  power  possible  under 
other  circumstances.  The  cares  of  the  Church  were 
to  him  such  a  burden. 

He  presided  in  the  Conference  sessions  with  great 
dignity  and  afifabiUty.  His  strong,  common  sense 
brought  him  safely  through.  He  never  lost  his  tem- 
per nor  his  self-possession.  He  presided  at  some 
famous  Church  trials,  where  the  utmost  skill  was  de- 
manded. At  one,  long  after  this  date,  which  lasted 
over  three  weeks,  when  the  fiercest  temper  was 
roused  and  the  strongest  men  were  arrayed  against 
each  other,  though  saddened  and  heart-sick  at  the 
sight,  he  so  demeaned  himself  as  to  escape  censure 
from  either  side.  His  charges  before  the  Conferences 
were  eloquent  and  wise,  enlivened  now  and  then  with 
flashes  of  rich  humor.  He  interjected  pithy  with  sen- 
sible remarks  as  the  business  proceeded,  and,  while  he 
kept  the  Conference  well  in  hand,  he  was  no  ecclesi- 
astical martinet  stickhng  for  every  point  of  arbitrary 


388 


The  Life  aftd  Letters  of 


law.  Strong  common  sense  had  always  been  one  of 
the  features  of  his  character,  and  it  marked  him  in  all 
his  administration.  He  was  remarkably  able  in  the 
stationing  room.  He  was  thoughtful,  considerate, 
careful.  He  bore  every  preacher  and  every  charge 
on  his  heart.  He  did  what  he  felt  he  ought  to  do,  but 
no  man  suffered  more  in  doings  it  if  he  had  cause  for 
believing,  as  he  often  had,  that  it  gave  pain. 

Bishop  Pierce  says  he  has  known  him  to  toss  all 
night  upon  his  bed  when  he  was  to  make  appoint- 
ments. His  Conference  tours  always  wore  him  down 
and  made  him  sick.  He  loved  home  with  the  deepest 
affection,  but  he  was  almost  a  stranger  there.  After 
the  completion  of  the  tour  of  1846  he  spent  a  longer 
time  than  usual  at  home,  and  in  the  spring  sent  his 
first  little  book  to  the  press,  which  contained  178 
pages,  on  the  subject  of  "  Family  Government." 

He  was  not  idle  during  the  summer.  There  was  a 
great  revival  of  religion  in  Oxford  among  the  college 
students.  The  Bishop  preached  often  and  with  much 
power,  and  the  family  of  college  boys  who  boarded 
with  him  participated  largely  in  the  blessings  of  the 
meeting.  At  this  revival  some  of  the  most  distin- 
guished members  of  the  Georgia  and  Alabama  Con- 
ferences at  the  present  time  were  converted. 

During  the  summer,  in  connection  with  Dr.  Means 
and  Judge  Longstreet,  he  held  the  first  protracted 
meeting  ever  held  in  Atlanta.  My  father  had  re- 
moved to  the  young  city,  and  he  secured  a  large 
vacant  warehouse,  which  he  converted  into  a  taber- 
nacle, and  in  it  the  meeting  was  held.  It  was  a  good 
meeting,  and  fairly  introduced  Methodism  into  the 
city,  in  which  it  has  become  a  power. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


389 


His  home  was  now  an  exceedingly  happy  one.  His 
age  was  fifty-three,  his  wife  seven  years  younger. 
Jimmy  was  an  interesting  Httle  fellow  of  six  years, 
Occie  a  bright  girl  of  ten,  and  Mary  in  college  in 
Macon.  Thomas  and  Hennie  lived  near  him,  only 
two  miles  away.  In  the  family  were  the  yet  unmar- 
ried daughters  of  Mrs.  Greenwood  and  Aleck  Wynn, 
his  foster  son.  The  house  was  large,  beautifully  sit- 
uated, adjoining  the  village  church.  The  delightful 
companions  of  other  years,  with  leisure  enough  in  the 
midst  of  their  college  duties  to  form  most  agreeable 
circles,  were  near  by.  The  house,  in  term  time,  was 
filled  with  boarders — young  men  going  to  college — 
with  whom  the  Bishop  was  in  full  sympathy,  and 
Christian  cheerfulness  threw  its  light  over  all.  After 
his  return  from  his  hard  journeys  he  felt  himself  enti- 
tled to  repose,  and  so  he  worked  at  will.  He  read  at 
random,  newspapers,  reviews,  and  new  books  ;  wrote 
as  the  spirit  moved  him  ;  sauntered  up  to  Judge 
Longstreet's  after  tea  with  his  good  Leonora,  and 
while  she  and  Eliza,  old-time  friends,  chatted  over 
Greensborough  and  the  Greene  County  people,  the 
Bishop  and  the  Judge  made  things  lively.  Sharp  the 
hits,  and  many  of  them.  Sometimes  he  went  down 
to  the  college  chapel  to  see  the  boys,  and  regularly  to 
the  village  prayer-meeting.  He  preached  somewhere 
every  Sunday,  frequently  in  Oxford.  He  had  a  little 
farm,  and  deluded  himself  with  the  idea  that  he  was  a 
farmer.  It  served  to  amuse  him,  and  did  keep  him  a 
little  poorer  than  he  would  have  been,  for  he  knew 
nothing  about  the  government  of  servants  except 
theoretically.  When  Judge  Longstreet  heard  he  was 
going  to  write  a  chapter  on  the  government  of  ser- 


390 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


vants,  he  said  in  a  letter :  I  laid  down  my  paper 
and  fairly  roared.  Bishop  Andrew  writing  on  the 
government  of  servants ! "  His  servants  governed 
him.    Slave -holding  was  a  costly  business  to  him. 

In  the  fall  he  began  his  journey,  a  long  and  weary 
one  over  the  mountains.  He  first  went  by  stage  to 
the  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Missions  in  Louisville, 
and  thence  back  by  Nashville  and  across  the  moun- 
tains to  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  and  then  northeast  to 
the  ancient  town  of  Jonesboro,  where  the  Holston 
Conference  held  its  session.  He  delivered  on  Satur- 
day night  the  missionary  address,  which  he  says  was 
dull  and  heavy,  and  preached  on  Sunday  morning. 
On  Wednesday  the  Conference  adjourned,  and  he  be- 
gan his  journey  in  private  conveyance,  in  company 
with  some  of  the  preachers,  through  the  beautiful  val- 
ley of  Southwestern  Virginia  to  Charlottesville.  It 
was  a  long  journey,  but  if  an  unceasing  beauty  of 
scenery  and  a  boundless  hospitality  could  compensate 
for  the  two  hundred  miles  of  travel,  he  had  ample  re- 
turn. He  reached  Charlottesville  on  the  14th,  and 
says  in  a  letter  to  his  wife  : 

My  health  is  very  good,  praise  the  Lord,  and  I 
trust  that  I  enjoy  in  a  good  measure  the  peace  of  God.  I 
felt  a  good  deal  of  warmth  and  enlargement  of  soul  to- 
day while  I  was  trying  to  preach  to  an  immense 
crowd.  The  people  were  profoundj^  attentive,  and 
seemed,  many  of  them,  to  feel  a  good  deal.  God 
grant  that  the  fruit  may  be  gathered  after  many  days. 
Last  night  was  the  anniversary  of  the  Missionary 
Society,  and  your  husband  was  the  principal  speaker. 
The  night  was  very  dark  and  rainy,  yet  the  house 
was  crowded.    I  had  considerable  liberty  in  speaking. 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


391 


and  the  collection  on  the  occasion  amounted  to  $700. 

.  The  Conference,  so  far,  is  getting  on  pleas- 
antly, and  I  trust  profitably.  We  have  crowded 
houses  and  a  good  deal  of  seriousness.  Oh,  that  the 
blessed  work  may  deepen  and  widen  till  the  hallowed 
flame  shall  spread  far  and  wide  !  " 

As  soon  as  his  work  was  done  in  Charlottesville  he 
went  southward,  spending  the  Sabbath  in  Lynchburg, 
and  thence  going  through  Danville  to  Greensborough, 
N.  C,  where  he  met  the  North  Carolina  Conference. 
At  the  close  of  its  session  he  hastened  home  to  Oxford. 

With  the  organization  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  South  in  1846,  the  missionary  work  took  a 
high  place.  The  immense  number  of  slaves  on  the 
plantations  were  the  first  care,  and  then  the  Indians 
in  the  Territories.  Bishop  Andrew  was  always  a 
missionary,  both  in  heart  and  in  labor.  He  could  not 
have  been  more  so  if  he  had  gone  to  Africa,  as  he  had 
thought  of  doing  in  1832.  In  the  plan  for  negro 
evangelization  by  the  aid  of  missionaries  he,  with  Wil- 
liam Capers,  had  been  a  chief  deviser,  and  now  that 
China  was  opened  to  Europeans,  his  ardent  soul  leaped 
at  once  to  the  task  of  entering  that  distant  empire. 
Charles  Taylor  and  Benjamin  Jenkins  were  selected  as 
missionaries,  and  Taylor  was  sent  to  Philadelphia  to 
prepare  himself  for  his  work  as  medical  missionary. 
As  soon  as  California  was  fairly  settled  he  was  among 
the  first  to  urge  the  occupancy  of  that  field,  and  he 
looked  toward  Liberia  with  longing  eyes.  The  world 
for  Christ  was  the  watchword  of  his  life.  During  the 
time  he  was  at  home  in  1848  he  was  very  much  en- 
gaged in  work  for  these  missions.  He  remained  in 
Oxford  till  August. 


392 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


There  is  no  easy  work  in  a  bishop's  life.  The  short 
respite  from  traveling  which  he  had  in  the  early  part 
of  1848  was  only  preparatory  to  a  long  and  weary 
journey  to  the  far  West,  which  he  began  in  August. 
The  railway  from  Oxford  to  Dalton  was  now  com- 
pleted, and,  leaving  home  on  Saturday,  he  reached 
Dalton  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  Here  on 
Sunday  he  preached,  and  from  hence  by  private  con- 
veyance he  went  to  Chattanooga,  thence  over  the 
mountains  by  stage  to  Nashville.  Here  he  attended 
a  camp-meeting  and  heard  Uncle  Golman  Green 
preach  a  sermon  which  moved  him  to  tears,  after 
which  he  preached.  The  next  day,  with  Drs.  Green 
and  McFerrin,  he  took  coach  for  Louisville,  met  his 
colleagues,  mapped  out  the  work,  and  took  steamer 
for  St.  Louis.  But  the  Ohio  River  in  September  is  a 
very  uncertain  stream,  and  the  boat  in  which  he  was 
a  passenger  ran  aground  on  Flint  Island.  He  gives 
in  the  ''Miscellanies"  a  graphic  description  of  his 
stay  for  three  days  on  the  island  and  of  his  after 
troubles  till  he  reached  his  destination. 

He  now  presided  at  the  Missouri  Conference,  which 
met  in  the  city  of  St.  Louis.  It  included  the  whole 
of  Southern  and  Southwestern  Missouri,  had  nearly 
thirteen  thousand  members,  and  embraced  six  dis- 
tricts. The  brave  Berryman,  who  had  stood  by  the 
Bishop  and  the  Discipline  in  1844;  J.  H.  Headlee, 
who  during  the  War  of  Secession  was  killed  for  his 
Southern  attachment ;  Francis  A.  Morris,  a  son  of 
the  bishop  ;  Thomas  H.  Capers,  transferred  from  Ala- 
bama ;  Jos.  Boyle  and  Jonathan  Stamper,  were  among 
the  prominent  figures  of  this  hard-working,  self-deny- 
ing Conference. 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


393 


From  St.  Louis  the  journey  began  to  Weston,  Mo., 
three  hundred  miles  away.  His  traveling  companion 
was  again  his  foster-son,  Alexander  M.  Wynn.  Pur- 
chasing a  buggy  and  a  pair  of  grays,  the  travelers  be- 
gan their  long  journey.  A  passage  in  his  journal  of 
travel,  as  he  passed  through  the  town  in  which  the 
State  University  was  located,  is  a  pertinent  expres- 
sion of  his  views  on  the  still  vital  subject  as  to 
whether  States  have  a  right  to  discriminate  against 
Christianity  under  pretence  of  neutrality ;  whether 
neology  is  not  as  positive  a  thing  as  theology,  and  to 
exclude  the  Bible  as  much  persecution  as  to  force  it 
upon  the  people.  What  these  views  were  no  one 
need  ask. 

The  Missouri  Conference  was  then  the  smaller  of 
the  two  Conferences  as  far  as  membership  was  con- 
cerned, but  was  equal  to  the  St.  Louis  in  territory. 
Andrew  Monroe,  the  old  Marylander,  led  the  hosts, 
and  W.  G.  Caples,  W.  M.  Rush,  and  Enoch  M.  Mar- 
vin were  among  the  young  men  of  the  Conference. 
There  were  but  fifty  of  them,  and  half  of  Missouri 
was  theirs  to  cultivate.  The  brave  Bishop  gave  them 
words  of  hearty  cheer,  made  his  appointments,  and 
turned  his  face  toward  the  wigwam  of  the  Indian. 
As  the  country  through  which  he  passed  was  so  in- 
teresting, and  his  observations  were  so  careful  and 
his  comments  so  wise,  I  would  be  glad  to  transfer  to 
these  pages,  from  the  volume  of  Miscellanies,"  his 
sketch  as  a  whole,  but  have  not  space.  The  Dela- 
ware Mission  was  only  twenty-five  miles  away,  and 
passing  Fort  Leavenworth  (now  in  Kansas),  they 
reached  the  Mission  about  dark.  Here  he  made  his 
first  effort  to  preach  through  an  interpreter — an  In- 
17* 


394 


The  Life  a7td  Letters  of 


dian,  whose  wife  having  been  converted  had  brought 
him  from  paganism  and  drunkenness. 

The  travelers  now  left  the  Delaware  country  and  en- 
tered the  land  of  the  Shawnees.  The  United  States 
Government  had  placed  a  manual  labor  school  for  this 
tribe  under  the  control  of  the  Church — and  it  had  here 
a  Mission,  at  which  the  Bishop  rested.  Fremont's  party 
of  explorers  were  on  their  way  West,  and  Brother  John- 
son, the  Superintendent,  and  the  Bishop  rode  out  to 
see  them.  They  could  not  catch  up  with  them,  and  he 
says  in  the  *^  Miscellanies  "  :  Just  as  we  were  recon- 
ciling ourselves  to  our  disappointment,  we  espied  on 
the  prairie,  at  a  distance  of  half  a  mile,  a  body  of  men 
and  dogs  in  full  chase.  '  A  wolf  chase,'  said  my 
friend  ;  *  let  us  join  them.*  And  immediately  he  was 
in  full  gallop,  and  what  could  I  do  but  follow  him  ? 
My  friend  swept  over  the  prairie  as  though  he  was  ac- 
customed to  it,  but  I  could  not  divest  myself  of  a  cer- 
tain sense  of  uneasiness  as  to  the  fate  of  my  neck 
among  the  holes  and  salamander  hills  which  abound, 
so  I  slackened  my  pace.  I  could  not  help  feeling  that 
there  was  something  ludicrous  in  our  appearance. 
We  were  neither  of  us  small  men — Brother  Johnson 
weighs  about  two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  and 
his  companion  something  short  of  two  hundred — 
neither  of  us  in  very  fine  .plight  for  playing  the  active, 
and  perhaps  some  of  your  grave  readers  may  question 
whether  it  was  quite  canonical  for  a  bishop  and  a 
priest  to  engage  so  heartily  in  the  amusement  of  hunt- 
ing. We  were  not  in  at  the  death,  but  we  were  on 
the  spot  time  enough  to  see  the  object  of  our  pursuit." 

He  went  on  southward,  visiting  the  Missions  in 
turn.    He  had  a  tender  sympathy  for  the  poor  Indian, 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


395 


but  no  respect  for  him  in  his  native  state.  He  found 
the  same  villanous  outrages  by  Indian  agents  and  trad- 
ers which  have  existed  and  will  exist,  we  fear,  to  the 
end.  Christianity  had,  however,  done  much  for  the 
Indians,  if  not  for  the  agents,  and  was  bound  to  do 
much  more  he  was  assured.  The  Miscellanies  "  give 
very  fully  the  account  we  have  condensed,  and  it  is 
an  interesting  contribution  to  our  missionary  history. 
He  presided  over  the  Conference  and  proceeded  east- 
ward to  Arkansas. 

He  entered  the  mountain  section  of  the  State,  and 
rested  for  a  while  in  the  home  of  John  Harrell,  the 
grand  old  pioneer  whose  life  was  spent  among  the 
poor  children  of  the  forest.  Here  he  preached,  and  by 
way  of  Van  Buren  made  the  journey  to  Clarkesville, 
where  he  found  a  congregation  waiting  to  hear  a  ser- 
mon from  the  weary  Bishop.  He  had  five  years  be- 
fore entered  this  same  village  from  the  east,  and  he 
noAV  came  from  the  west.  Pressing  on  he  reached 
Pine  Bluff,  where  he  presided  over  the  Arkansas  Con- 
ference. He  had  but  little  time  to  abide,  and  turned 
his  face  toward  the  Southwest  and  Texas.  The 
Bishop  was  so  delighted  with  a  part  of  Southwest- 
ern Arkansas  that  he  almost  decided  to  remove 
thither,  but  finding  that  his  loved  ones  could  not  go 
with  him  he  abandoned  the  idea.  Through  a  snow- 
storm he  came  to  Princeton,  Arkansas,  and  here  he 
lodged  in  the  same  room  with  a  man  who  had  once 
produced  a  sensation  rare  even  in  America — John 
Newland  Maffitt.  He  does  not  say  why  Maffitt  was 
here,  nor  anything  of  the  interview.  From  Princeton 
he  went  to  Camden,  where  he  preached  on  the  Sabbath, 
then  on  through  the  rain  to  Louisiana.    The  country 


396 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


was  uninhabited,  the  way  rough,  and  the  carriage 
broke  down  ;  but  in  the  evening  good  Brother  Laney 
received  them  and  gave  them  shelter.  Thence  to 
Louisville,  where  he  preached  a  sermon  in  a  tavern, 
and  thence  the  seventy-five  miles  to  Shreveport,  La. 
The  weather  was  bad  and  the  roads  were  wretched, 
but  they  made  the  journey  safely,  and  reached  the 
hotel  in  that  city  by  Saturday  night.  He  preached 
on  Sunday  and  then  proceeded  to  Greenwood,  seven- 
teen miles  away,  where  he  preached  again  at  night. 

The  travelers  went  now  to  Texas.  In  Marshall  he 
found  an  old  acquaintance  from  Augusta,  who  enter- 
tained him,  and  meeting  with  the  brother  of  Dr.  Alex- 
ander he  rode  to  Henderson.  It  was  a  new  ♦town, 
and  the  church  was  not  yet  finished.  They  did  not 
have,  by  many,  enough  preachers  to  fill  the  work, 
but  he  did  the  best  he  could.  From  Henderson  he 
traveled  West,  facing  the  rains  and  barely  escaping 
a  norther  which  came  upon  them  in  the  midst  of  a 
prairie,  and  at  last  reached  Washington,  the  old  capi- 
tal of  the  State.  The  next  day  Robert  Alexander  gave 
them  a  welcome  to  his  home,  and  on  Sunday  the 
Bishop  dedicated  a  new  church  in  Brenham,  which 
was  near  by.  Thence  he  went,  by  way  of  Ruterville, 
to  La  Grange,  where  he  met  the  Texas  Conference. 
"The  Texas  Conference,"  he  says,  "embraces  all 
Western  Texas,  extending  from  the  Trinity  River  to 
the  Rio  Grande,  and  destined  probably,  at  some  day 
not  very  distant,  to  annex  the  neighboring  provinces 
of  Mexico."  Even  then  the  German  problem  the 
Texans  have  now  to  solve  was  before  them,  and  the 
Mexicans  on  the  border  and  the  Germans  in  the  in- 
terior much  interested  the  missionary  Bishop.  The 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


397 


negro  slaves,  too,  called  for  missionary  work,  and  he 
was  anxious  to  meet  the  demand.  In  this  work  he 
had  one  of  the  trials  of  his  great  heart — the  want  of 
workers.  Too  many  preachers  in  the  East,  too  few  in 
the  West ;  fields  white  ;  laborers  hard  to  find  in  the 
West  and  men  standing  idle  in  the  market-place  in 
the  East.  They  now  turned  their  faces  toward  Hous- 
ton, and  reached  the  same  old  tavern  in  which,  five 
years  before,  he  had  found  lodging  on  his  first  visit  to 
Texas.  And  here  abruptly  his  itinerancy  ends,  leaving 
him  in  the  heart  of  Texas,  with  the  cholera  in  New 
Orleans  and  possibly  in  Galveston.  He,  however, 
committed  himself  calmly  to  God,  and  early  in  Janu- 
ary, 1849,  he  was  in  Oxford  again. 

During  May,  1848,  the  General  Conference  of  the 
M.  E.  Church  met  at  Pittsburg  and  repudiated  the 
plan  of  separation.  Bishop  Andrew  writes  to  Bishop 
Soule  :  "  .  .  .  I  know,  of  course,  the  recent 
enactments  at  Pittsburg  must  produce  no  little  con- 
fusion along  the  border,  and  so  I  suppose  we  are  to 
have  a  border  war  now  in  earnest— altar  against  altar 
and  neighbor  against  neighbor,  I  fear.  May  God 
over-rule  it  all  for  good,  and  soon  bring  peace  and 
love  again  to  our  borders,  as  well  as  into  our  midst. 
I  fear  that  the  establishment  of  this  new  Mission  Con- 
ference will  operate  very  unfavorably  to  the  peace 
and  quietude  of  our  western  border.  .  .  This 
border  warfare  was  the  great  grief  of  his  life.  The 
necessary  division  of  the  work  he  had  hoped  would 
be  peaceful,  and  while  he  regretted  to  be  even  nomi- 
nally separated  from  his  Northern  brethren,  he  could 
see  no  reason  why  the  harmony  between  the  Con- 
ferences should  be  broken. 


398 


TJlc  Life  and  Letters  of 


The  life  of  a  bishop  has  its  monotony,  and  this  year 
1849  '^^^^s  quite  uneventful.  He  remained  at  his 
house,  seeing  after  lofig-neglected  home  interests,  un- 
til November,  when  he  began  his  visitations  again. 
This  year  he  took  in  the  Southern  district — North 
Carolina,  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  and  Florida.  His 
pen  was  quite  busy,  and  he  sent  out  ringing  appeals 
for  the  missionary  cause.  He  was  never  so  eloquent 
as  when  writing  on  this  subject.  He  was  intensely 
interested  in  the  mission  to  China  and  in  the  newly 
established  one  in  California,  and  was  in  every  way 
seeking  to  arouse  the  Church  to  greater  liberality. 

He  returned  to  Oxford  in  the  early  part  of  1 850  for 
a  short  breathing  spell  before  going  to  the  General 
Conference  in  May.  The  Conference  was  to  meet  at 
St.  Louis,  Mo.  The  fact  that  cholera  was  raging  in 
certain  sections  of  the  West  led  many  to  desire  to 
change  the  place  of  meeting,  but  the  bishops  were  not 
willing  to  do  this,  and  the  body  assembled.  The  Con- 
ference was  not  one  of  any  great  interest.  It  was  the 
second  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South,  and 
its  most  important  act  was  the  election  of  a  new 
bishop.  This  was  the  life-long  friend  of  Bishop  An- 
drew, Henry  B.  Bascom.  His  election  promised  re- 
lief to  an  overworked  Episcopacy,  but  alas  !  how  soon 
were  the  hopes  built  upon  his  election  blasted  ;  for  in 
less  than  six  months  he  was  in  his  grave. 

In  the  fall  Bishop  Andrew  began  again  his  journey. 
He  was  now  no  longer  young.  For  thirty-eight  years 
he  had  been  a  preacher,  and  for  twenty  a  bishop.  To 
travel  in  those  days  was  easier  than  it  had  been,  but 
still  the  stage-coach  was  often  the  only  conveyance  he 
could  find  for  very  long  journeys,  and  it  was  an  un- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  399 


comfortable  vehicle  to  him.  There  was  a  very  trying 
feature  in  the  work  at  this  time  ;  it  was  the  border  war, 
which  he  saw  coming,  and  which  had  now  come.  He 
was  a  man  of  peace,  and  war  between  any  people  was 
pain  to  him,  but  that  Methodism  should  be  rent  in 
twain,  and  that  there  should  be  strife  between  Ephraim 
and  Judah  was  an  especial  grief ;  and  yet  what  else 
could  there  be  ?  The  plan  of  separation  was  disre- 
garded. The  sectional  feeling  in  both  portions  of  the 
country  had  become  more  and  more  intense.  To  leave 
portions  of  Virginia,  Missouri,  and  Kentucky  without 
supply  from  the  Southern  Church  was  to  leave  them 
without  a  Methodist  ministry.  They  would  not  have 
any  other,  and  so  there  were  rival  Methodisms  in  the 
same  fields.  A  necessity  may  exist  for  such  a  state  of 
things,  but  it  is  never  agreeable  to  the  man  who  loves 
union  and  concord,  and  the  decision  that  there  is  ne- 
cessity for  it  should  be  carefully  reached.  The  China 
Mission  was  now  under  headway,  and  he  was  in  charge 
of  it.  The  California  Mission,  which  he  had  so  earn- 
estly advocated,  was  established,  and  his  fqster-son 
Aleck,  as  he  calls  Alexander  M.  Wynne,  was  already 
there  with  Dr.  Boring,  the  superintendent,  and  other 
co-laborers.  His  mission  work  called  for  constant 
care  and  correspondence  during  the  interval  of  the 
Conferences.  Bishop  Bascom  was  appointed  to  the 
Western  District,  and  Bishop  Andrew  to  Kentucky. 
He  met  Bascom  at  Cynthiana,  and  while  he  was  in 
Kentucky  the  great  man  died,  and  Bishop  Andrew 
preached  his  funeral  sermon  at  Louisville. 

After  the  adjournment  of  the  Kentucky  Conference 
he  returned  again  to  Oxford.  His  stay  at  home  was 
longer  than  usual,  but  he  was  not  idle.    His  pen  was 


400 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


at  work,  and  the  cares  of  the  Church  were  constantly 
pressing  him.  In  the  early  fall  he  began  his  work 
again.  There  were  only  four  bishops  for  the  large 
field,  and  they  were  all  old  men.  Soule  had  been 
preaching  fifty  years,  Capers  forty-three,  Andrew 
thirty-eight,  and  Paine  thirty-four.  It  is  scarcely  more 
than  necessary  to  make  a  simple  mention  of  the  fact 
of  his  visitations  until  the  General  Conference  of  1854. 
In  1 85 1  he  had  the  Eastern  District,  in  1852  the  South- 
ern, and  in  1853  he  was  again  in  Texas  and  Arkansas. 
He  traveled  during  this  winter  over  one  thousand  miles 
in  private  conveyance,  returning  home  in  the  early 
part  of  the  year  1854.  He  remained  in  Oxford  during 
the  spring,  watching  beside  a  wife  who  was  far  from 
well,  and  early  in  May  he  went  to  the  General  Con- 
ference which  met  in  Columbus,  Ga.  The  Conference 
was  a  very  important  one.  The  great  suit  between 
the  two  General  Conferences  had  been  settled,  and 
there  was  a  considerable  sum  to  be  disposed  of.  The 
questions  of  a  publishing  house  and  where  it  should  be, 
the  election  of  agents,  secretaries,  and  of  bishops, 
were  all  matters  of  concern.  Among  the  prominent 
candidates  for  bishop  were  two  men  very  dear  to  him 
— William  Wightman  and  George  F.  Pierce.  The 
election  came  on  and  Pierce  was  elected  ;  Wightman 
failed  by  one  miswritten  ballot.  George  F.  Pierce, 
H.  H.  Kavanagh,  and  John  Early  were  chosen  bish- 
ops. In  ordaining  Bishop  Pierce  he  felt  as  if  he  was 
laying  hands  on  his  own  son,  and  his  emotions  were 
of  the  deepest  nature. 

His  dear  Leonora  was  not  well.  She  had  not  been 
strong  for  years,  and  now  her  health  had  given  en- 
tirely away.    He  left  the  Conference  before  its  ad- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


401 


joiirnment  and  hastened  to  Oxford.  His  gentle  wife, 
long  an  invalid,  had  been  taken  with  a  very  severe 
attack  and  sank  under  it.  A  short  time  after  he 
reached  home  she  diecl.  It  was  a  terrible  blow.  He 
loved  her  very  tenderly,  and  his  love  was  reciprocated 
fully.  He  felt  the  pain  in  every  fibre  of  his  being. 
He  looked  to  be  as  rugged  as  an  oak  ;  he  was  as  sen- 
sitive as  an  orange-tree.  Twice  he  had  been  stricken, 
and  now  his  home  was  broken  up.  Although  Mrs. 
Andrew  had  been  in  feeble  health  for  some  time,  her 
death  was  a  surprise  to  her  friends,  and,  indeed,  was 
the  result  of  a  sudden  and  violent  attack.  The  con- 
dolence of  his  friends  was  especially  grateful.  Among 
his  letters  I  find  two  carefully  preserved — one  from 
William  Capers,  the  other  from  Robert  Paine. 

"Anderson,  S.  C,  June  15,  1854. 

Rev.  Bishop  Andrew  : 

My  Dear  Brother — A  letter  from  Susan  to  Mary 
brings  the  sad  intelligence  of  your  second  great  be- 
reavement. Yes,  the  greatest  bereavement  known  to 
man,  '  born  to  trouble  '  in  this  transitory  life,  has  now 
twice  afflicted  you.  He  who  has  dispensed  it  has  or- 
dained its  severity,  and  by  the  dispensation  of  it  re- 
veals His  will  that  you  should  suffer  to  the  extent  of 
that  severity.  To  lose  a  wife,  who  is  felt  to  be  one's 
self,  loved  as  one's  self,  and  one's  most  cherished  self, 
what  is  it  not  that  is  agonizing  to  the  soul  ?  It  is 
death  to  the  spirit,  and  despair  to  the  heart  of  man. 
If  one  could  be  rent  asunder  and  live,  no  one  might 
expect  of  him  to  take  pleasure  in  any  possessions  he 
might  have  while  the  torn  muscles  were  quivering 
and  bleeding,  or  console  himself  with  any  hope  of  be- 


402 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ing  healed.  One  all-pervading  agony,  one  all-absorb- 
ing, all-consuming  thought  alone  might  possess  him. 
It  is  death — the  death  of  everything  but  pain  and  an- 
guish and  despair.  Death  so  desperate  as  to  allow 
of  life  in  nothing.  Death  in  the  house,  in  the  field, 
in  the  closet,  by  the  wayside,  in  solitude,  in  the  crowd, 
among  friends  as  among  strangers,  by  night  and  by 
day,  everywhere,  at  all  times  and  in  all  things.  The 
death  of  a  wife  who  is  a  wife  in  all  that  God  meant 
her  to  be,  to  a  husband  who  is  a  husband  to  the  same 
extent,  so  shocks  the  heart  and  confounds  it  as  if  it 
were  not  material  to  his  individual  sense  or  interest  in 
life  whether  it  were  the  whole  world  or  that  one  per- 
son, his  wife,  which  the  husband  has  lost. 

"  Such  I  consider,  my  dear  brother,  the  natural 
extent  and  intensity  of  your  affliction.  Your  most 
distant  and  least  interested  friends  must  feel  for  you, 
for  it  has  pleased  God  to  lay  His  hand  very  heavily 
upon  you.  That  is,  He  has  smitten  you  where  the 
stroke  is  sorest  and  saddest,  and  hardest  to  be  sus- 
tained with  patience  and  resignation.  I  do  most  sin- 
cerely sympathize  with  you,  and  yet  I  know  how  well 
you  are  assured  of  the  power  and  presence  of  Him 
who  holds  dominion  over  death,  and  who  would  never 
smite  at  all  if  He  might  not  make  it  a  blessing,  even 
death  itself  a  sacrament  of  life.  All  things  are  subject 
to  Jesus,  yet  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus  'Jesus  wept.' 
He  knew  what  He  would  presently  do,  and  that  in 
truth  the  sorrow  of  Martha  and  Mary  had  but  a  seem- 
ing, not  a  real  cause ;  still  He  wept.  How  much 
more  for  you.  Yes,  '  Jesus  wept.'  Blessed  instance 
of  Divine  compassion  !  Surest  example  of  the  Sa- 
vior's love  !    You,  then,  may  weep.    Sorrow  is  no 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


403 


sin.  It  was  the  mourning  of  Martha  and  Mary  that 
touched  their  Lord.  Happy  women — blessed  sisters, 
who,  their  brother  in  the  grave,  had  Jesus  to  visit  it 
with  them  weeping  !  It  may  be  He  had  not  come  to 
them  at  all  save  for  the  intensity  of  their  sorrow. 
Sorrow  is  sanctified  for  the  exercise  of  the  love  of 
our  Almighty  Savior.  Shall  I  not,  then,  my  good 
brother,  rather  encourage  you  to  weep  than  bid  you 
dry  up  your  tears  ?  Let  them  flow  until  Jesus  wipes 
them  away.  Philosophy  is  but  a  fool  that  knows  not 
how  to  help  you  ;  Jesus  does,  and  He  will  perform  it. 
He  will  because  He  is  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our 
infirmities,  and  He  would  if  it  were  only  in  approba- 
tion of  a  sensibility  which  He  has  sanctified.  He  who 
made  the  husband  and  wife  to  be  one,  and  enjoined  it 
on  husbands  to  love  their  wives,  never  meant  that 
they  should  part  without  sorrow. 

"  But  why  all  this  to  one  who  knows  it  and  much 
more  ?  Not  for  information,  but  that  I  cannot  refrain 
from  expressing  to  you  what  in  similar  circumstances 
you  might  more  fully  and  touchingly  express  to  me. 
I  feel  for  your  affliction.  Poor  creature  that  I  am, 
this  and  to  pray  for  you  is  all  that  I  can  render. 

Mrs.  Capers  joins  me  in  sincere  condolence.  God 
be  gracious  to  you,  my  dear  brother,  to  the  uttermost 
of  your  need. 

"  Believe  me  to  be 

"  Most  sincerely  and  affectionately  yours, 

"W.  Capers." 

"Aberdeen,  Miss.,  July  4,  1854. 

"Bishop  Andrew: 

"  My  Dear  Brother — Yours  conveying  the  mourn- 
ful intelligence  of  the  decease  of  your  dear  wife  was 


404 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


received  several  days  since,  but  knowing  how  impo- 
tent are  the  attempts  of  our  best  earthly  friends  to 
console  our  hearts  under  such  overwhelming  afflic- 
tions, 1  have  not  hastened  to  reply.  And  yet  I  doubt 
if  there  is  one  not  more  nearly  connected  with  you 
who  more  deeply  and  tenderly  sympathizes  with 
you.  Yes,  my  brother,  full  well — ah,  too  well ! — do 
I  know  how  you  feel.  God  sustain  and  comfort  you  ; 
for  only  in  relying  on  His  Word  and  trusting  in 
His  Son  will  you  find  strength  to  meet  your  trial 
properly. 

"  Little  did  I  think  you  would  so  soon  be  called  to 
suffer  this  blow.  I  knew  your  wife's  health  was  not 
good — had  been  bad  for  several  years — yet  I  hoped 
she  would  again  be  well,  and  I  did  trust  that  she 
might  go  with  you  to  California  and  realize  great  good 
from  the  trip.  I  saw  you  were  uneasy  about  her  at 
the  late  General  Conference,  but  while  I  was  willing 
you  should  return  home  in  view  of  the  illness  in  your 
family  and  town,  I  did  not  suppose  your  wife's  health 
was  unusually  bad  ;  and  I  understand  you  now  to  say 
that  she  was  not  then  laboring  under  the  disease 
which  took  her  off.  I  am  glad  I  encouraged  you  to 
go.  I  have  suffered  so  much  anxiety  in  my  absence 
from  home  that  I  can  feel  for  another. 

I  have  been  very  busy  inspecting  and  arrang- 
ing Bishop  McKendree's  papers.  What  a  jumble  ! 
Nothing  complete.  Can  you  not  contribute  a  paper 
to  his  life  ?  Do  sit  down  and  give  me  something 
illustrative  of  that  good  Bishop.  I  want  to  see  you 
very  much.  I  love  you  and  deeply  sympathize  with 
you. 

My  love  to  your  family.    God  bless  and  reunite 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


405 


them  in  heaven.  Remember  me  also  in  love  to 
Bishop  Pierce  and  family. 

''Your  Brother, 

"R.  Paine." 

In  September  he  wrote  his  old  friend  Dr.  Green  : 
"Near  Oxford,  September  9,  1854. 

"  My  Dear  Brother  : 

"  I  know  not  where  to  find  Bishop  Soule,  therefore 
I  address  you,  as  I  think  you  are  perhaps  more  likely 
to  know  his  arrangements  than  any  one  else  to  whom 
I  could  write.  You  are  aware  that  I  am  expected  to 
go  to  California,  and  I  wish  to  learn  what  help  I  can 
rely  upon  for  that  work.  I  know  that  several  men 
offered  their  services  to  Bishop  Soule  at  Columbus, 
but  I  know  not  how  many  the  Bishop  accepted.  As 
he  has  made  no  communication  on  the  subject,  and  as 
time  is  flying  rapidly  and  winter  will  soon  be  here,  I 
wish,  of  course,  to  know  what  amount  of  help  I  can 
rely  upon.  Perhaps  you  can  give  me  the  desired  in- 
formation. We  must  have  a  good  deal  of  help  there 
or  be  disgraced.  If  you  can  give  me  any  light  let  me 
have  it.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  made  a  vigorous 
beginning  in  the  book  matter.  Hope  its  continuance 
will  be  still  more  vigorous. 

"I  have  passed  through  deep  waters  since  I  saw 
you,  but  God  is  wise  and  good  and  always  does  right. 
The  death  of  my  wife  has  broken  me  up.  I  cannot 
leave  my  daughters  alone  in  my  long  absences  from 
home,  and  have  consequently  broken  up  housekeeping. 
And  now,  after  having  had  a  home  for  nearly  forty 
years,  I  am  without  one.    This  to  a  man  of  sixty  is 


4o6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


not  very  pleasant,  but  under  the  circumstances  it  is 
probably  the  best  thing  that  I  can  do.  True,  I  have 
as  affectionate  children  and  as  kind  friends  as  any  man 
was  ever  blessed  with,  and  in  one  sense  houses  in 
abundance  ;  but  still  they  all  do  not  make  home. 
What  would  houses  and  friends  be  to  you  without 
your  excellent  wife  ?  May  you  never  know  the 
anguish  of  seeing  her  die. 

What  about  the  meeting  of  the  Bishops  ?  I  heard 
it  was  to  take  place  in  Nashville  on  October  2d.  I 
have  heard  it  rumored  that  both  time  and  place  have 
been  changed,  but  I  know  nothing  definite,  as  none 
of  the  Bishops  have  written  me  a  line  on  the  subject. 
Can  you  give  me  any  light  ?  How  is  Brother  'McFer- 
rin  ?  I  have  deeply  sympathized  with  him,  as  only 
those  can  do  who  have  been  called  to  drink  the  same 
bitter  cup.  My  kind  love  to  him.  Remember  me 
very  kindly  to  your  wife,  Sister  EUiston,  Aunt  Polly, 
and  all  the  children,  and  believe  me  to  be,  my  dear 
Brother, 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

''James  O.  Andrew." 

He  could  not  reconcile  himself  to  longer  residence 
in  his  home.  The  family  was  a  small  one— Sarah  and 
Mary  and  Jimmie.  He  could  not  leave  the  girls  alone. 
He  resolved  to  close  the  house  in  Oxford  and  visit  his 
children. 

A  month  after  the  death  of  his  wife  my  mother  died. 
Atlanta  was  not  far  from  Oxford,  and  my  father  re- 
quested him  to  preach  her  funeral  sermon,  which  he 
did  with  great  emotion.  He  had  known  my  mother 
all  her  life  ;  had  been  her  father,  colleague — had,  per- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  407 

haps,  received  her  into  the  Church,  had  been  her  pas- 
tor, had  baptized  her  children.  She  had  watched  at 
the  bedside  of  his  Amelia,  as  my  father  had  attended 
her  in  her  last  illness.  He  loved  her  as  his  own  child, 
and  as  he  preached  that  day  all  the  man  was  moved. 
He  spoke  of  her  and  then  of  himself,  and  said  he  was 
like  a  dying  oak  in  a  forest  of  dead  trees,  with  all  his 
mates  lifeless  around  him. 

This  bereaved  man  never  murmured.  He  believed  ' 
in  God,  and  that  all  things  worked  together  for  good 
to  those  who  loved  Him ;  and  he  went  calmly  and 
serenely  on  his  way.  Work  for  his  Master  was  his 
only  solace  in  sorrow.  Octavia  was  in  Alabama,  and 
that  he  might  do  some  work  in  that  State,  as  well  as 
to  see  her,  in  the  early  fall  or  late  summer  he  went 
there.  He  was  not  wiUing  for  Bishop  Pierce  to  leave 
Georgia.  He  did  not  think  two  bishops  should  reside 
in  one  State,  and  he  decided  to  remove.  He  expected 
to  go  to  California  in  the  early  part  of  1855,  to  be 
gone  for  some  months,  and  so,  late  in  the  year  1854, 
he  married  again.    Mr.  Rush  says  : 

**  He  was  married  in  the  latter  part  of  1855  to  Mrs. 
Emily  W.  Childers,  formerly  Mrs.  Woolsey — in  her 
girlhood  Emily  Sims,  and  a  member  of  his  congrega- 
tion in  Augusta.  She  was  connected  with  the  Bishop 
by  the  marriage  of  their  respective  kindred.  She  had 
been  the  intimate  friend  of  his  first  wife,  and  was  the 
cousin  of  his  second.  For  more  than  forty  years  they 
had  known  each  other.  Her  practical  sense,  elegant 
manners,  deep  religious  life,  and  great  devotion  to  the 
Church,  made  her  an  admirable  companion  for  his  old 
age.  His  daughters  regretted  that  their  father's  con- 
victions of  duty  led  him  so  far  to  disregard  the  senti- 


4o8  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

ments  of  society  as  to  marry  before  the  usual  time, 
but  were  assured  his  reasons  were  good." 

He  married  in  six  months  after  the  death  of  his 
wife,  and  the  fastidious  objected  to  this  apparently 
undue  haste.  He  was  never  controlled  in  his  actions 
by  public  opinion,  but  he  was  not  indifferent  to  it  nor 
disposed  to  defy  it ;  to  do  right  was  his  first  great  ob- 
ject. There  were,  however,  reasons  which  were  over- 
ruling in  his  mind,  the  principal  one  of  which  was  that 
he  was  to  go  to  California  in  the  winter.  He  was  now 
nearly  sixty  years  old,  and  by  no  means  strong,  sub- 
ject to  severe  and  sudden  attacks  when  he  needed 
kindly  care.  His  daughters  were  not  willing  for  him 
to  take  the  long  journey  alone,  and  this  reason  led 
him  to  hasten  his  marriage  a  few  months  before  it  was 
otherwise  to  have  taken  place. 

His  Episcopal  district  for  this  year  was  a  small  one 
—  Alabama  and  Louisiana.  He  presided  over  these 
and  made  arrangements  for  his  visit  to  the  Pacific 
coast. 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  409 


CHAPTER  XI. 

LIFE  IN  SUMMERFIELD. 
1855-1861. 

Panama. — Letter  to  Rush. — California. — Recollections  of  Dr.  Fitzgerald. 
— Return  to  Alabama. — Visits  Oxford. — Virgmia  Conference. — Great 
sermon. — North  Carolina  Conference  at  Wilmington. — Florida  Con- 
ference.— Rest  at  Summerfield. — Visit  to  Georgia. — Death  of  Eliza- 
beth Lovett. — Episcopal  Tour. — Changes  in  his  old  Conferences. — 
Serious  Attack  of  Sickness. — Compelled  to  Turn  Back  in  Missouri. — 
Remained  at  Home  until  JVIay. — General  Conference  at  Nashville. — 
Episcopal  Visitation.— Visit  to  Georgia.— Contributions  to  the  Press, 
— Visit  to  Texas. — Changes. — Missionary  Enterprise. — Central  Amer- 
ican Mission. 

BISHOP  ANDREW  presided  over  the  Louisi- 
ana Conference  in  New  Orleans  and  then  took 
the  steamer  for  Aspinwall,  to  go  to  San  Francisco  by- 
way of  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  His  wife  was  with 
him.  The  journey,  now  that  the  new  railroad  across 
the  Isthmus  was  completed,  could  be  made  with  com- 
paratively little  difficulty,  and  he  reached  Panama 
safely  in  good  time,  but  too  late  for  the  outgoing 
steamer.    He  wrote  from  Panama  to  Rush  : 

Panama,  New  Grenada,  March  12,  1855. 

Dear  Wesley  : 

As  I  reckoned  that  my  little  Occie  and  yourself 
may  begin  to  feel  some  anxiety  to  hear  from  us,  I 
have  concluded  to  write  you  a  brief  letter.  We 
reached  Aspinwall,  the  terminus  of  the  Panama  Rail- 
iS 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


way,  on  Friday  the  2d  instant,  and  on  the  same  after- 
noon left  by  rail  for  this  place,  hoping  to  sail  the  same 
evening,  on  the  steamer  John  L.  Stephens,  for  San 
Francisco,  but  she  had  sailed  about  an  hour  before 
our  arrival,  so  we  were  compelled  to  remain  until  the 
departure  of  the  next  steamer,  which  will  probably  be 
about  the  15th.  The  Golden  Age  is  said  to  be  a  very 
fine  boat.  She  now  lies  at  an  island  about  ten  miles 
distant,  but  is  expected  up  this  evening  or  to-morrow 
morning.  We  intend  to  go  on  board  and  remain  till  she 
sails.  We  hope  to  improve  our  circumstances  by  this 
arrangement,  as  we  are  now  boarding  at  a  miserably 
dirty  establishment,  and  paying  ten  dollars  per  week. 

This  is  an  uncomfortable,  noisy,  dirty  place.  We 
have  Roman  Catholicism  in  all  degradation,  dilap- 
idated churches  everywhere,  going  to  ruin,  yet  there 
is  almost  a  perpetual  ringing  of  bells,  so  that  if  there 
is  any  religion  in  brazen  sounds,  this  ought  to  be  a 
place  where  the  devil  has  no  foothold.  But  he  has 
become  so  accustomed  to  these  sounds  that  I  fear  he 
nestles  in  undisturbed  security  in  the  Church  and 
everywhere  else  through  the  city.  The  place  con- 
tains, I  am  told,  about  8,000  people,  and  I  think 
there  are  some  fourteen  or  fifteen  churches,  and  Cath- 
olic priests  meet  you  everywhere.  The  people  are 
lazy  and  filthy  in  their  habits,  especially  the  natives. 
The  water  for  drinking  is  nearly  all  brought  from  the 
mountain — about  a  mile  and  a  half — on  the  backs  of 
mules.  They  fix  a  frame  on  the  animal  which  holds 
two  earthen  jars  or  two  casks,  containing  about  eight 
or  ten  gallons  each.  In  this  way  they  transport  al- 
most everything.  There  are  a  few  horse-carts,  and  I 
think  I  have  seen  two  or  three  drays.    But  they  cling 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


411 


to  the  old  usage  of  their  fathers  in  making  their  don- 
keys carry  everything  on  their  backs.  It  is  sometimes 
amusing  to  see  a  long  string  of  mules,  loaded  with 
gold  or  silver,  which  they  are  to  carry  across  the  isth- 
mus, following  each  other,  the  bridle  of  each  beast 
fastened  to  the  tail  of  the  one  before  him.  In  this 
way  they  carry  millions  across  to  the  Atlantic. 

"  The  railroad  is  a  great  triumph  of  American  en- 
terprise and  capital.  It  is  said  to  have  cost  seven 
millions  of  dollars,  to  have  employed  almost  continu- 
ally seven  thousand  laborers,  of  whom  hundreds  if 
not  thousands  of  poor  fellows  fell  victims  to  the  cli- 
mate. The  road  is  now  complete  so  far  as  to  justify 
the  passage  of  a  daily  train  both  ways,  but  it  is  far 
from  being  thoroughly  finished  for  the  transit  of  heavy 
freight,  and  their  tariff  on  freight  is  so  enormously 
high  as  to  render  it  objectionable.  This  matter,  how- 
ever, will  regulate  itself  after  a  while.  The  climate 
is  as  hot  as  July  with  you,  and  I  am  told  never  varies 
much  in  its  temperature.  We  have  the  cocoanut,  the 
plantain,  the  banana,  the  pineapple,  and  the  bread- 
fruit tree  all  growing  in  great  luxuriance.  You  can 
scarcely  imagine  the  difference  in  these  various  fruits 
when  taken  fresh  from  the  tree.  By  the  time  you  get 
them  they  are  scarcely  like  the  same  fruits.  Sugar- 
cane and  cotton  both  do  well  here,  and  the  coffee 
grows  wild.  But  the  natives  are  too  incorrigibly  lazy 
to  do  anything.  The  earth  yields,  almost  without 
labor,  all  that  is  absolutely  necessary  for  existence, 
and  consequently  they  need  not  be  expected  to 
labor. 

I  have  preached  twice  in  a  little  Protestant  chapel 
they  have  here,  which  is,  I  believe,  the  only  Protes- 


412 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


tant  house  of  worship  in  the  republic,  although  the 
laws  of  New  Grenada  allow  entire  toleration  of  all 
religions  ;  and  is  it  not  wonderful,  that  although  it 
has  been  the  case  for  some  years,  yet  the  American 
Church  seems  to  have  slumbered  over  the  wants  of 
this  important  portion  of  America,  and  is  making  no 
effort  to  enlighten  and  save  these  ignorant  and  dying 
thousands,  to  whom  the  way  is  open  ? 

My  own  health  is  good.  Emily  has  been  quite 
sick,  but  is  now  up  and  I  hope  ready  to  proceed  on 
her  voyage.  In  the  midst  of  her  sickness  she  has 
been  happy  in  God  and  rejoicing  in  hope  of  His  glory. 
She  sends  a  great  deal  of  very  special  love  to  you  and 
Occie.  I  think  of  you,  my  dear  children,  and  pray 
for  you  every  day,  and  look  forward  with  anxious  hope 
to  the  time  when,  if  it  pleases  God,  we  shall  meet  again, 
and  if  not  on  earth,  we  have  a  better  home  to  which 
our  believing  hearts  look  forward.  I  find  God  here 
as  everywhere  else,  and  though  deprived  of  a  thou- 
sand blessings  and  comforts  which  home  affords, 
yet  we  have  the  sweet  assurance  that  God  is  with 
us.  We  are  here  not  on  our  own  business,  not  in 
quest  of  gold  ;  it  is  the  Lord's  work  we  are  trying 
to  do,  and  may  we  not  safely  confide  in  Him  at  all 
times  ?  God  bless  you  both.  Many  kisses  for  my 
dear  Occie. 

**  Very  affectionately, 

"JAS.  O.  Andrew." 

In  good  time,  however,  the  steamer  was  ready  for 
the  voyage,  and  without  adventure  of  any  moment 
he  reached  San  Francisco.  He  had  been  among  the 
first  to  urge  upon  the  church  the  occupancy  of  Cali- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


413 


fornia.  He  had  stood  by  the  Mission  in  all  its  vicis- 
situdes. He  had  selected  its  first  superintendent,  and 
sent  with  him  his  foster  son  Alex.  M.  Wynn.  The 
Mission  had  struggled  bravely  and  successfully  and 
was  now  the  Pacific  Conference.  Bishop  Soule  had 
visited  it  the  year  before  and  some  very  delicate  and 
trying  matters  had  been  brought  before  him.  Changes 
of  the  most  trying  kind  had  taken  place,  and  it  re- 
quired prudence  and  grace  to  direct  affairs,  but  as 
usual  he  was  sufficient  for  the  demand.  He  found 
himself  very  much  at  home  on  that  far-off  shore,  for 
most  of  the  preachers  composing  the  Conference  had 
gone  out  by  his  advice.  Dr.  Boring  had  now  returned 
to  the  States.  Mr.  Wynn,  after  reaching  Cuba,  had 
been  sent  back  by  his  physician,  but  he  found  Wil- 
liam A.  and  John  C.  Simmons  (whose  father  lived  in  the 
same  village  with  himself  for  years,  and  whom  he  had 
known  from  their  childhood),  Fitzgerald,  Kelly,  Ful- 
ton, and  others,  whom  he  had  known  in  the  States. 
The  work  of  the  Conference  was  gone  through  with 
without  difficulty,  and  he  spent  some  time  in  traveling 
over  the  State.  He  was  unceasingly  active  while  he 
was  here.  He  preached  in  the  mines,  at  the  Camp 
meetings,  visited  the  big  trees,  studied  the  China- 
man, and  enjoyed  all  the  novelties  of  the  wonderland 
with  the  ardor  of  a  school-boy.  He  was  with  his  Ox- 
ford boys  a  good  deal,  and  he  gave,  in  a  lecture  after 
his  return,  a  very  mirth-moving  account  of  howjacky, 
as  he  called  him,  had  adapted  himself  to  the  demands 
of  the  new  State.  As  cook,  laundryman,  preacher, 
or  exhorter  he  was  always  equal  to  the  demand.  He 
remained  in  California  only  a  month  after  the  Con- 
ference adjourned  and  then  returned  by  the  Isth- 


414 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


mus.  Dr.  O.  P.  Fitzgerald,  who  at  this  time  had 
been  five  years  in  California,  gives  us  a  very  pleas- 
ant picture  of  the  old  Bishop  as  he  appeared  in  Cali- 
fornia. 

In  1855  Bishop  Andrew  went  to  California  to  look 
after  our  struggling  church  in  that  strange,  new  field. 
He  was  the  man  for  the  occasion.  Dissension  and 
discouragement  were  prevalent  among  our  little  band 
of  Southern  Methodists  there.  The  experience,  the 
firmness,  the  wisdom,  the  fatherly  spirit,  and,  above 
all,  the  patience  for  which  he  was  pre-eminent,  were 
needed.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  wife,  whose 
presence  was  a  separate  evangel  to  those  wild,  reck- 
less Californians  in  those  days  when  the  *  flush  times ' 
were  not  yet  past,  and  good  women  were  scarcer  than 
the  other  sort.  To  this  day  her  madonna-like  face  and 
gracious  ways  are  remembered. 

It  came  out  soon  after  the  Bishop's  arrival  in  Cali- 
fornia that  it  was  expected  by  some  that  he  would 
take  steps  for  the  withdrawal  of  Southern  Methodism 
from  the  Pacific  coast. 

*  If  that  is  what  they  want,  they  sent  the  wrong 
man,'  said  he,  in  a  tone  that  left  no  room  for  doubt  as 
to  his  feeling  and  purpose. 

The  most  important  points  in  the  Pacific  Confer- 
ence were  visited  by  the  Bishop,  and  there  was  soon 
perceptible  a  more  resolute  and  hopeful  spirit  among 
the  preachers  and  people. 

"  The  Annual  Conference  was  held  at  Sacramento 
City.  The  session  was  stormy,  and  but  for  the  Bishop's 
self-command  and  tact  there  would  have  been  a  disas- 
trous explosion  of  the  combustible  elements.  But  with 
masterly  hand  he  steered  clear  of  the  rocks,  and  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


415 


new  Conference-year  began  under  more  hopeful  condi- 
tions. Two  incidents  of  the  session  illustrate  con- 
spicuous elements  of  the  Bishop's  nature — his  practical 
wisdom  and  his  strong  sensibility. 

"  The  eccentric  John  Sanders  preached  at  the  after- 
noon hour  on  Conference-Sunday.  The  church  was 
crowded,  and  the  Bishop  sat  on  a  front  seat  near 
the  pulpit.  The  sermon  was  full  of  rugged  strength, 
with  an  occasional  touch  of  pathos,  all  the  more  effec- 
tive because  it  was  unexpected  from  that  stern,  strong 
preacher.  It  was  like  a  violet  blooming  on  the  edge 
of  a  lava-bed.  Speaking  of  the  heavenly  life  and  the 
glorified  bodies  of  the  saints,  Sanders  said  :  *  There 
will  be  no  disease,  weakness,  or  imperfection  in  that 
world  of  blessedness  and  glory.  The  glorified  body 
will  be  the  fit  vehicle  of  the  glorified  soul.  Among 
the  millions  of  the  blood-washed  hosts  there  will  be  no 
stunted  growth  or  deformed  body.' 

"The  words  seemed  to  open  a  mighty  fountain  of 
feeling  in  the  Bishop's  soul ;  the  tears  gushed  from  his 
eyes  and  he  wept  audibly.  The  chord  touched  was  a 
tender  one,  and  took  him  back  to  the  Georgia  hills 
and  to  the  brother  of  his  boyhood.  The  preacher's 
prophecy  has  been  realized,  for  the  brothers  have  met 
and  embraced  on  the  hills  of  God." 

The  other  incident  is  taken  from  the  book  of  "  Cali- 
fornia Sketches,"  by  Dr.  O.  P.  Fitzgerald  :  It  was 
observed  during  the  Conference  session  that  there  was 
a  cloud  upon  the  mind  of  a  devout  and  somewhat  ex- 
traordinary preacher  named  Fulton.  About  the  third 
morning  of  the  session,  while  some  important  measure 
was  pending,  Fulton  rose  and  addressed  the  Bishop  in 
the  chair. 


4i6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Bishop,  I  am  in  great  mental  distress.  I  am 
sorry  to  interrupt  the  business  of  the  Conference,  but 
I  can  bear  it  no  longer.' 

'  What's  the  matter,  Brother  Fulton  ?  '  asked  the 
Bishop. 

*  I  am  afraid  I  have  sinned,'  said  Fulton,  with 
bowed  head  and  faltering  tone. 

'  In  what  way  ?  '  said  the  Bishop. 

'  On  my  way  to  the  Conference  I  became  very 
hungry  while  riding  in  the  stage-coach.  I  fear  I 
thought  too  much  of  my  food.  You  know.  Bishop, 
that  if  we  fix  our  affections,  even  for  one  moment,  on 
any  creature  more  than  on  God,  it  is  sin.' 

Well,  Brother  Fulton,'  said  the  Bishop,  'if  at 
your  hungriest  moment  the  choice  had  been  presented 
to  you  whether  you  would  give  up  your  dinner  or 
your  God,  would  you  have  hesitated  ? ' 

"  '  No,  sir,'  said  Fulton  meekly,  after  a  short  pause. 

*Then,  my  dear  brother,  the  case  is  clear;  you 
have  done  no  wrong,'  said  the  Bishop,  in  his  hearty, 
off-hand  way. 

Fulton  sat  down  and  burst  into  tears  of  joy,  his 
poor  morbid  soul  fully  relieved  of  its  load. 

The  Bishop's  preaching  in  California  was  un- 
equaled.  One  of  his  sermons  at  Sonora  echoed 
among  those  hills  for  many  a  day.  His  subject  was 
the  prodigal  son,  and  there  was  a  fatherliness,  a  ten- 
derness and  pathos  that  broke  many  hearts.  He 
seemed  to  yearn  with  inexpressible  pity  over  the  wild 
and  wayward  wanderers  before  him,  and  his  appeals 
were  irresistible.  One  miner,  who  had  come  up  from 
his  diggings  on  the  Stanislaus  River  to  hear  the 
Bishop,  went  up  to  him  at  the  close  of  the  service, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


417 


and  with  tear-stained  face  handed  him  a  twenty-dollar 
gold  piece,  saying  : 

"  *  I  feel  like  I  had  had  a  glimpse  of  home  and  a 
touch  of  old  and  better  days.' 

"  When  the  Bishop  left  California  the  Church  was 
filled  with  new  hope,  and  the  laborers  were  working 
together  in  harmony  and  with  tokens  of  success. 
When  his  sheaves  are  all  brought  in  there  will  be  some 
from  the  far  West." 

He  had  decided  never  to  live  in  Oxford  again.  The 
old  home  had  too  many  "  haunted  chambers  *'  for  him, 
and  casting  about  for  a  residence  he  chose  Summer- 
field,  Alabama,  a  quiet  little  hamlet,  some  eight  miles 
from  Selma,  where  the  Centenary  Female  College 
was  established.  His  old  friend  and  neighbor,  Arche- 
laus  H.  Mitchell,  resided  there  ;  the  community  were 
all  Methodists  and  people  of  piety  and  cultivation.  It 
was  convenient  to  the  Alabama  River,  and  not  diffi- 
cult of  access.  His  son-in-law,  the  Rev.  John  Wesley 
Rush,  has  kindly  contributed  a  sketch  of  his  life  here. 

On  his  return  from  California  he  bought  and  fixed 
up  a  very  nice  and  comfortable  home  in  Summerfield 
in  which  to  spend  his  old  age  and  meet  the  end  of  life. 
At  this  time  Summerfield  was  a  most  delightful  place 
of  residence  ;  the  location  was  healthy  and  the  citizens 
wealthy,  social,  intelligent,  and  pious.  It  was  also 
the  principal  centre  of  the  educational  interests  of  the 
Alabama  Conference ;  the  schools,  male  and  female, 
numbered  about  three  hundred  pupils,  and  many  of 
the  young  men  were  preparing  for  the  ministry.  To 
impress  for  good  the  young  people  gathered  here  from 
all  parts  of  the  Southwest  was  his  main  reason  for  set- 
tling in  this  place. 
i8* 


4i8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


"  His  family  now  consisted  of  himself,  wife,  his  two 
daughters,  Sarah  and  Mary,  his  niece.  Miss  Martha 
Spencer,  and  James,  his  only  son.  Mutual  love  and 
forbearance,  confidence  and  help  controlling  every 
heart  and  hand,  in  a  group  so  pious  and  intelligent, 
could  not  fail  to  make  a  happy  home.  Those  who 
have  formed  their  ideas  of  Bishop  Andrew  from  his 
manner  as  President  of  a  Conference  and  from  his 
pulpit  utterances,  and  have  never  seen  him  in  the 
affectionate  abandon  of  himself  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family,  have  no  full  and  proper  conception  of  the  man's 
real  character.  The  sternness  that  occasionally  char- 
acterized him  in  Conference,  and  which  was  sometimes 
necessary  to  the  peaceful  control  of  a  body  of  excited 
men,  was  never  seen  in  his  own  house.  The  strong, 
sarcastic  words  he  so  frequently  used  in  the  pulpit, 
when  denouncing  the  corruption  and  meanness  of  sin, 
were  never  employed  when  talking  with  his  family. 
At  home  he  was  all  love  and  gentleness  and  patience 
and  good-humor.  There  was  ever  maintained  a  strong 
government  of  the  family.  He  sat  on  a  throne — a 
throne,  too,  whose  will  was  very  seldom,  if  ever,  dis- 
regarded. But  the  power  of  that  throne  was  the 
power  of  love  and  not  of  authority.  No  man's  family 
ever  obeyed  him  more  implicitly,  for  no  man  ever  had 
more  entirely  the  love  and  respect  of  wife,  children, 
and  servants.  No  matter  what  company  was  present 
he  retired  punctually  at  nine  o'clock,  when  the  chil- 
dren all  invariably  gave  him  the  good-njght  kiss.  In 
the  morning  they  greeted  him  the  same  way,  and  al- 
ways inquired  how  he  had  slept.  The  servants  also, 
on  leaving  the  house,  bade  him  good-night,  and  the 
next  morning  inquired  kindly  after  his  health. 


James  Osgood  Aiidrew. 


419 


Where  there  was  such  abounding  love  and  kind- 
ness, there  were  no  storms  of  ill-temper,  no  volcanoes 
of  wrath  occasionally  deluging  everybody  with  fire 
and  hot  ashes.  Nobody  expected  to  be  whipped  or 
scolded.  There  was  no  flurry  or  hurry,  nor  confusion  ; 
everything  was  peaceful  and  quiet  always,  and  every- 
body had  the  widest  liberty  of  words  and  action  com- 
patible with  the  general  good,  and  with  personal 
duties  assigned  by  the  Bishop  or  Mrs.  Andrew.  On 
this  account,  to  persons  of  less  patience  of  temper, 
and  with  ideas  more  rigid  and  exact  of  such  matters, 
his  family  government  seemed  little  better  than  an- 
archy, and  the  general  management  of  his  business 
the  very  perfection  of  carelessness.  And  it  may  be 
possible  that  the  extreme  to  which  he  carried  this  prin- 
ciple of  love  in  his  government  would  ruin  the  families 
and  fortunes  of  most  men.  But  it  is  very  certain  it 
worked  well  in  his  case,  as  was  proved  by  the  prevail- 
*■  ing  tranquillity  of  the  household  and  the  general  re- 
sults upon  his  family  and  affairs. 

"By  reason  of  bad  health  (consumption),  Mary 
spent  most  of  her  time  in  Florida  with  dear  old  friends, 
the  Prices,  formerly  of  Oxford.  Sarah  was  with  her. 
In  the  spring  of  1857  she  died  while  in  search  of 
health,  and  was  buried  near  Miccanopy.  By  this  sad 
event  a  fresh  sorrow  was  thrown  over  the  cheerful 
home  at  Summerfield.  Mrs.  Lovett's  death  occurred 
in  1856,  Mary's  in  1857,  and  was  followed  by  that  of 
Mrs.  Merriwether  in  1862.  The  Bishop  loved  his  daugh- 
ters tenderly  as  a  father,  and  fully  appreciated  the 
rare  excellence  and  beauty  of  their  characters.  They 
were  a  great  joy  and  comfort  to  his  heart.  But  when 
God  removed  them  from  earth  he  submitted  with  an 


420 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


unmurmuring  heart,  and  mourned  not  without  hope, 
being  fully  persuaded  that  before  the  lapse  of  many 
years  more  he  would  greet  them  again  in  heaven.  It 
may  be  added  here  that  within  a  few  years  of  this 
date  both  the  daughters  of  Mrs.  Andrew  also  died — 
Mrs.  Sturdevant  first,  leaving  a  little  boy  five  or  six 
years  old,  who  was  reared  by  his  grandmother  An- 
drew ;  afterward  Mrs.  Mixon,  one  of  the  loveliest 
women  and  most  affectionate  of  daughters. 

"  It  was  the  Bishop's  habit  to  rise  at  four  o'clock, 
bathe  his  head  in  cold  water,  dress,  and  pray.  He 
then  read  the  Bible  till  the  bell  rung  for  prayer  and 
breakfast.  The  time  at  table  was  never  hurried,  the 
occasion  being  a  time  to  enjoy  conversation  as  well  as 
food.  After  breakfast  he  repaired  to  the  study,  where 
he  spent  the  forenoon  alone,  reading  books,  writing 
for  the  papers,  and  writing  letters,  interrupting  his 
work  now  and  then  for  the  purpose  of  prayer.  A  little 
after  noon  he  came  out  and  rested  a  while  before  din- 
ing. 

**  The  afternoons  were  spent  reading  reviews  and 
newspapers,  visiting  the  schools  and  his  neighbors, 
especially  if  sick,  and  attending  any  religious  meeting 
that  might  be  on  hand.  About  sunset  he  withdrew 
himself  for  meditation  and  prayer.  He  took  the  lead- 
ing reviews  of  Great  Britain  and  this  country,  and 
kept  on  hand  the  latest  book  on  the  ever-changing 
attitude  of  infidelity  to  the  Bible,  and  thus  he  kept 
well  up  with  the  spirit  of  the  times.  He  read  with 
great  rapidity  ;  some  books  he  simply  jumped  through, 
just  touching  the  highest  points  of  thought  here  and 
there  in  the  different  chapters.  But  after  going 
through  in  this  way  he  knew  about  all  of  the  discus- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  421 


sion  that  was  worth  knowing.  After  supper  he  did  no 
work  at  all,  the  time  being  sacredly  devoted  to  his 
wife  and  children.  This  was  the  happiest  period  of 
the  whole  day,  one  which  he  never  neglected  or 
failed  to  enjoy.  It  was  a  kind  of  religious  and  literary 
family  sociable,  in  which  all  seemed  to  be  on  terms  of 
equality,  each  having  a  perfect  right  to  introduce  any 
subject  of  personal  or  general  interest,  and  to  talk  or 
read  upon  it  ad  libittwiy  the  only  exception  being 
that  harsh  criticism  on  personal  character  was  abso- 
lutely forbidden. 

'*  Such  was  the  usual  manner  in  which  he  spent  his 
time  when  resting  from  the  toils  of  his  episcopal  work 
and  travels.  His  condition  in  life  being  easy,  his 
mind  was  under  no  strain  from  pecuniary  embarrass- 
ments, though  it  was  never  free  from  the  care  of  the 
churches.  His  children  were  all  educated  except 
James,  who  was  at  home  going  to  school  to  excellent 
masters  and  was  prepared  to  enter  college  in  1859. 
From  college  James  went  to  the  war,  and  did  not 
graduate  until  two  years  after  its  close." 

This  is  a  charming  picture  of  the  good  old  Bishop's 
later  years.  The  election  of  the  three  new  Bishops, 
each  of  whom  was  strong  to  labor,  gave  him  a  little 
more  repose,  but  the  work  was  extending  and  the  de- 
mands of  the  Church  were  still  very  constant,  so  that 
he  had  not  much  time  for  rest.  For  twenty-five  years 
he  had  been  a  Bishop,  and  was  now  practically  the 
head  of  the  College.  On  his  return  to  the  East, 
he  visited  Oxford.  He  delivered  at  the  church,  to 
his  old  friends,  a  most  delightful  lecture  on  California. 
"  After  describing  the  country,"  says  Dr.  Allen,  of 
China,  "  for  two  hours  he  suddenly  stopped.   *  Go  on, 


422 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


go  on,'  said  his  hearers,  '  you  have  left  us  in  Cali- 
fornia ;  you  must  bring  us  out  again,'  and  he  did  very 
delightfully." 

He  presided,  in  the  fall,  over  the  Virginia,  North 
Carolina,  and  Florida  Conferences.  Most  of  the 
preachers  who  were  now  appointed  by  him  had  en- 
tered the  Conferences  since  he  had  been  a  Bishop, 
and  were  like  children  to  him.  He  grew  more  and 
more  fatherly  and  simple  as  he  grew  older.  Those 
grand  sermons  that  once  thrilled  the  multitude  were 
now  like  the  tender  talks  of  a  father  to  his  family, 
and  yet  there  was  no  decay  of  any  mental  power. 
He  gave  all  his  thoughts  to  the  work  of  stationing  the 
preachers  and  directing  the  work  ;  no  man  ever  did  it 
more  firmly,  tenderly,  or  wisely.  The  Virginia  Con- 
ference of  1855,  over  which  he  presided,  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  disagreeable  and  unhappy  contest 
which  had  followed  the  disruption.  The  Baltimore 
Conference  had  for  many  years  held  the  valley  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  a  large  portion  of  the  upper  part  of  the 
State  was  in  its  boundary.  Many  members  of  this 
body  had  led  in  the  attack  upon  Bishop  Andrew,  and 
while  the  Conference,  as  a  conference,  adhered  to  the 
North  and  was  decidedly  anti-slavery,  there  were  no 
truer  Southern  men  living  than  the  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence preachers  in  Virginia.  But  many  of  the  older 
Methodists,  especially  those  of  the  younger  race,  had 
so  revolted  against  the  course  of  the  Conference  lead- 
ers as  to  positively  withdraw.  To  save  these  Metho- 
dists, as  has  been  noted,  the  Southern  church  had 
been  organized  in  all  this  section,  and  now  some  of 
the  ablest  men  of  the  Virginia  Conference  were  ap- 
pointed to  this  territory.    The  Virginia  Conference, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


423 


over  which  he  had  so  often  presided,  has  always  been 
a  strong  Conference,  and  now  a  body  of  young  men 
were  coming  in  who  were  to  make  it  still  more 
famous.  Bennett,  Blackwcll,  Jas.  A.  Duncan,  Proc- 
tor Granbury,  the  Petersons,  Paul  Whitehead  were 
all  young  men  coming  to  the  front.  Doggett,  John 
E.  Edwards,  Rosser,  Langhorn,  Lee,  and  Manning 
were  still  in  their  prime.  The  Conference  had  over 
thirty-two  thousand  members,  and  its  liberality  was 
evinced  by  its  contribution  of  $12,500  to  Missions. 

Dr.  John  E.  Edwards  gives  us  a  very  delightful 
reminiscence  of  this  Petersburg  Conference  : 

"  I  have  personal  occasion  for  further  recollection 
of  Bishop  Andrew's  visit  to  the  Virginia  Conference 
at  the  session  of  1855.  At  that  time  I  was  pastor  of 
the  Centenary  Charge,  in  Richmond.  My  health  was 
greatly  impaired  by  hard  work  and  an  obstinate 
bronchial  affection,  and  'preachers'  sore  throat,'  that 
threatened  to  lay  me  aside  from  the  active  work  of  the 
pastorate.  My  parishioners  and  personal  friends  pro- 
posed, at  their  own  expense,  to  send  me  over  the 
waters  on  a  tour  of  the  continent  of  Europe  for  rest 
and  recovery,  with  the  further  proposition  that  they 
defray  all  the  expenses  of  a  temporary  supply  during 
my  absence,  provided  the  Bishop  would  reappoint 
me  to  my  charge  and  give  his  official  consent  to  the 
arrangement. 

"Two  or  three  leading  laymen,  in  company  with 
myself,  approached  Bishop  Andrew  on  the  subject, 
not  without  some  misgivings  as  to  the  success  of  our 
application.  The  Bishop  heard  the  statement  and 
proposition,  and  promptly  responded  in  an  off-hand, 
whole-souled  sort  of  a  way,  about  as  follows  :  *  I  am 


424 


TJie  Life  and  Letters  of 


but  too  glad  to  grant  the  request.  It  is  a  great  pleas- 
ure to  me  to  know  that  our  people  have  such  an  ap- 
preciation of  their  pastors.  I  will  reappoint  Brother 
Edwards  to  the  Centenary  Charge  with  the  under- 
standing that  he  is  to  have  leave  of  absence  during 
the  year,  for  his  trip  to  Europe.'  Turning  to  me,  he 
said,  '  I  congratulate  you,  my  brother,  on  your  good 
fortune,  in  having  such  generous  and  thoughtful 
friends.  Go,  my  brother,  and  God's  blessing  be  on 
you  and  your  charge.  God  bless  the  dear  brethren 
who  are  so  considerate  of  their  pastor.'  I  did  go,  and 
recovered  my  health.  But  for  that  respite  and  recrea- 
tion, I  think  it  more  than  probable  I  should  have 
been  dead  and  forgotten  long  ago." 

"The  Rev.  Anthony  Dibbrell,  of  the  Conference, 
died  of  yellow  fever,  in  Norfolk,  but  a  few  months 
before  the  session  of  the  Conference.  A  memorial 
service  was  held  in  the  Washington  Street  Church  in 
honor  of  this  heroic  and  powerful  preacher  who  fell  at 
his  post,  and  Bishop  Andrew  delivered  the  funeral 
discourse  on  the  solemn  and  affecting  occasion.  The 
large  house  was  crammed  to  its  utmost  capacity — 
every  inch  of  standing  room  even  in  the  aisles  and 
galleries  was  occupied.  From  the  first  sentence  to 
the  close  of  his  discourse  the  Bishop  held  his  audience, 
by  the  magic  spell  of  his  eloquence,  for  the  space  of 
an  hour  and  a  half  without  a  thought  of  weariness  or 
discomfort  arising  from  the  crowded  condition  of  the 
congregation.  That  good  man,  Gesner  Harrison,  Pro- 
fessor of  Greek  in  the  University  of  Virginia,  stood  in 
the  middle  aisle,  about  midway  between  the  pulpit 
and  the  front  door,  wedged  in  by  a  mass  of  eager 
hearers  around  him.    I  see  him  now,  with  quivering 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


425 


muscles  and  streaming  eyes,  standing  as  one  in  a 
trance,  all  unconscious  of  the  lapse  of  time,  or,  it 
would  seem,  of  the  presence  of  any  human  being 
other  than  himself  and  the  great  preacher  in  the 
pulpit.  The  loss  of  that, speech  at  Salisbury,  N.  C, 
and  of  that  funeral  discourse  of  the  Rev.  Anthony 
Dibbrell  at  Petersburg,  Va.,  leaves  a  void  in  the 
annals  of  our  literature  that  can  never  be  supplied, 
and  leaves  the  name  of  Bishop  James  O.  Andrew,  D.D., 
without  a  record  and  memorial  that  would  have  per- 
petuated Ids  name  in  the  imperishable  literature  of 
his  church  when  his  gravestone  shall  have  crumbled 
to  dust." 

The  Rev.  Alex.  G.  Brown  gives  a  fuller  account : 
First. — The  nature  of  faith  was  defined  in  the 
language  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  in  the  first  verse  of  the 
chapter  in  which  the  text  occurs  :  '  Now,  faith  is  the 
substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen.'  This  definition  was  explained  and  illus- 
trated, and  the  congregation,  especially  the  ministers, 
were  affectionately  urged  to  maintain  this  view  of 
the  subject  in  contradistinction  from  that  erroneous 
theory  which  would  make  the  faith  of  God's  people 
nothing  more  than  a  cold,  rationalistic  belief. 

Secondly, — The  sure  foundation  of  faith  was  found 
in  the  immutable  promises  of  God's  holy  word.  These 
promises,  as  given  to  the  saints  of  the  olden  time, 
which  are  all  *  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus,'  embrace 
both  material  and  spiritual  blessings,  the  earthly  and 
the  heavenly  Canaan  ;  blessings  for  life  and  death,  for 
time  and  eternity.  Abraham,  though  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  did  not  enjoy  on  earth  the  full  realization 
of  these  precious  promises.    He  had  no  earthly  home 


426 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


for  himself  or  for  his  family,  but  '  dwelt  in  tabernacles 
with  Isaac  and  Jacob,  the  heirs  with  him  of  the  same 
promises.'  Yet,  while  a  stranger  and  a  pilgrim  on 
earth,  he  was  abundantly  sustained  and  blessed  ;  for, 
with  the  eye  of  faith  he  beheld  the  promises  afar  off ; 
he  was  fully  persuaded  of  them,  and  embraced  them  ; 
and  thus  enjoyed,  in  his  present  experience,  *  the  sub- 
stance of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen.'  This  was  insisted  upon  as  the  privilege,  yea, 
the  duty,  of  every  sincere  disciple  of  Christ.  Faith 
should  not  only  enthrone  God  in  our  hearts,  but  en- 
able us  to  'endure  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible.' 
Its  vision  of  divine  things  should  be  so  clear  and  dis- 
tinct as  to  make  them  sublime  and  precious  realities 
in  the  religious  consciousness  of  God's  people.  Thus, 
heaven  should  begin  on  earth  in  the  heart  of  every 
believer. 

What'er  we  hope,  by  faith  we  have ; 

Future  and  past  subsisting  now. 
Faith  lends  its  realizing  light, 

The  clouds  disperse,  the  shadows  fly, 
Th'  Invisible  appears  in  sight, 

And  God  is  seen  with  mortal  eye. 

Thirdly. — Faith,  resting  securely  on  this  imperish- 
able foundation,  never  fails  to  develop  a  life  of  entire 
consecration  to  God  and  his  holy  service.  By  faith 
Abel  offered  an  acceptable  sacrifzcCy  by  which  he  ob- 
tained witness  that  he  was  rigJiteoiis.  The  faith  of 
Enoch  would  never  have  translated  him  to  heaven  if  it 
had  not  first  secured  this  testimony  that  he  pleased  God. 
*  By  faith  Abraham,  when  he  was  called  to  go  out  into 
a  place  which  he  should  afterward  receive  for  an  in- 
heritance, obeyed ;  and  went  out,  not  knowing  whither 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


427 


he  went.'  These  ancient  servants  of  God  'confessed 
that  they  were  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth.' 
Here  they  had  no  abiding  city.  They  sought  '  a  city 
which  hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker  is 
God.'  Thus,  as  strangers  and  pilgrims  in  this  world, 
our  faith  should  develop  lives  of  holy  consecration  to 
God.  The  obedience  of  Abraham  was  eloquently  de- 
scribed as  an  example  worthy  of  pious  emulation. 
We  were  exhorted  to  '  deny  ourselves  of  all  ungodli- 
ness and  worldly  lusts,  living  soberly,  righteously,  and 
godly  in  this  present  world,  looking  for  that  blessed 
hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of  the  great  God, 
and  our  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  himself  for 
us,  that  he  might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity  and 
purify  unto  himself  a  peculiar  people,  zealous  of  good 
works.' 

"  Fourthly. — The  reward  of  faith  was  brought  under 
consideration.  It  was  maintained  that  faith  has  its 
reward  in  this  life,  in  death,  and  in  eternity.  This 
proposition  was  beautifully  illustrated  in  the  examples 
of  the  text.  Did  not  God  reward  the  faith  of  His  an- 
cient servants  in  all  the  pilgrimage  of  life  ?  Did  He 
ever  leave  or  forsake  them  ?  Was  He  not  with  them 
in  the  dying  hour  ?  Did  they  not  die  '  in  faith  ?  ' — 
And  hath  He  not  prepared  for  them  a  city — the  city, 
of  the  New  Jerusalem,  which  John  beheld  from  the 
Mount  of  Vision,  descending  from  God  out  of  heaven  ? 
And  so  shall  He  reward  the  faith  of  His  people  in  all 
the  ages.  So  hath  He  rewarded  the  honored  brethren 
whose  death  we  commemorate  to-day.  The  Lord 
counted  them  worthy,  putting  them  into  the  ministry  ; 
His  presence  went  with  them  to  all  their  charges  and 
blessed  them  in  all  their  labors,  giving  them  many 


428 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


souls  for  their  hire  and  seals  unto  their  ministry.  And 
who  can  doubt  that  he  was  with  them  in  the  hour  of 
death  ?  They  *  died  in  faith.'  Their  faith  triumphed 
over  death  and  the  grave,  shouting,  '  O  death,  where 
is  thy  sting  !  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ! '  They 
have  entered  in,  through  the  gates,  into  the  city  ;  they 
walk  its  golden  streets,  and  drink  from  its  crystal 
fountains  ;  all  tears  have  been  wiped  from  their  eyes  ; 
and  they  have  no  more  sorrow  nor  crying,  neither 
shall  they  suffer  any  more  pain.  There  is  '  no  night 
there  ;  and  they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the 
sun  ;  for  the  Lord  God  giveth  them  light,  and  they 
shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever.' 

"  In  conclusion,  the  Bishop  eloquently  alluded  to 
California,  as  illustrative  of  his  subject.  He  embarked 
in  a  splendid  ship  for  the  city  of  San  Francisco  ;  and 
after  a  long  and  perilous  voyage,  it  was  announced 
that  he  was  passing  through  the  '  Golden  Gate,'  which 
opens  from  the  rough  waters  of  the  Pacific  to  the  well- 
protected  harbor  of  San  Francisco  Bay.  The  passen- 
gers all  rushed  to  the  upper  deck  ;  and  soon  the  mag- 
nificent city  of  our  western  coast  broke  upon  their 
vision.  As  we  neared  the  port,  said  the  Bishop,  we 
saw  many  people  standing  upon  the  shore,  waving  a 
joyous  welcome  to  our  approaching  vessel.  Soon  the 
ship  was  made  fast,  and  the  passengers  were  all  on 
shore.  And  such  a  scene  of  grateful  joy  I  never  be- 
held !  Friend  clasped  the  hand  of  friend  in  happy 
recognition ;  parents  embraced  their  children  from 
whom  they  had  suffered  a  long  separation,  and  wives 
were  restored  to  their  husbands  in  the  land  of  gold, 
whither  they  had  gone  in  pursuit  of  their  earthly  for- 
tunes.   All  rejoiced  ;  and  many  wept  and  shouted  for 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


429 


joy.  Oh,  it  was  a  happy  day  !  So,  my  brethren  we 
are  now  upon  the  ocean  of  life.  We  have  embarked 
in  the  old  ship  of  Zion  for  the  distant  port  of  heaven. 
Thanks  be  unto  God  who  hath  given  us  a  free  passage 
and  guaranteed  our  safety  !  The  voyage  may  be  long 
and  the  storms  may  be  severe  ;  we  may  grow  weary 
of  the  trip  and  sometimes  fear  that  all  will  be  lost. 
But  never  mind — Jesus  is  our  Captain  ;  He  will  bring 
us  safely  through  the  perils  of  the  deep.  Soon,  if 
faithful,  we  shall  reach  the  *  Golden  Gate.'  The  City 
of  our  God  shall  break  upon  our  enraptured  eyes ; 
and  its  shores  shall  be  lined  with  the  loved  ones  who 
have  gone  before.  Even  now  I  see  them !  With 
palms  of  victory  and  crowns  of  glory,  they  are  waving 
us  welcome  to  the  bHssful  shore.  There  I  see  the 
sainted  spirits  of  our  beloved  and  honored  dead — 
Dibbrell,  Eskridge,  Jones,  and  Gibson.  They  have 
safely  reached  the  'shining  shore.'  Soon  we  will 
meet  them.  Oh,  it  will  be  a  glorious  re-union  !  We 
will  clasp  them  in  the  arms  of  perpetual  embrace,  and 
forever  shout  the  praises  of  Him  who  hath  loved  us 
and  redeemed  us  from  our  sins  by  His  own  blood,  and 
made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  our  God.  And  all  the 
angels  shall  say,  *  Amen ;  blessing,  and  glory,  and 
wisdom,  and  thanksgiving,  and  honor,  and  praise,  and 
might,  be  unto  our  God  for  ever  and  ever.'  Amen." 

From  hence  he  came  to  the  North  Carolina  Confer- 
ence, which  met  in  Wilmington.  This  was  the  first 
time  he  had  presided  over  a  Conference  in  this  little 
city.  Around  no  place  clustered  more  precious  mem- 
ories. Here  he  came  with  his  young  wife  and  spent 
two  of  the  most  delightful  years  of  his  life.  The  Con- 
ference was  not  quite  as  large  in  territory  as  it  is  now, 


430 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


but  it  had  seven  districts  fully  supplied  with  preachers, 
and  twenty-nine  thousand  members.  It  contributed 
during  the  year  $10,000  for  missions.  From  Wilming- 
ton he  went  to  Florida.  Over  twenty  years  before  he 
had  gone  into  this  territory  while  it  was  connected 
with  the  Georgia  Conference,  and  traveled  extensively 
through  it.  It  was  now  a  promising  young  Confer- 
ence, embracing  nearly  all  of  Lower  Georgia  and  all  of 
Florida  east  of  the  Chattahoochee  River.  There  were 
seven  districts,  extending  from  Key  West  to  Albany  in 
Georgia.  The  work  of  appointing  preachers  is  al- 
ways difhcult,  and  especially  so  when  the  Bishop  has 
such  a  field  as  this  to  provide  with  laborers.  There 
were  but  few  parts  of  the  work  where  family  comfort 
could  be  hoped  for.  There  were  no  railroads  as  yet  in 
the  young  State,  and  provision  for  the  bare  necessa- 
ries of  life  was  very  scanty.  There  was,  however,  quite 
a  body  of  efficient  and  laborious  men.  He  made  the  ap- 
pointments as  best  he  could  and  returned  to  Alabama. 

His  Episcopal  district  during  the  year  had  led  him 
to  the  shores  of  the  two  great  oceans.  He  had  crossed 
the  great  Andes  chain  of  mountains  twice  and  trav- 
eled over  twenty  thousand  miles,  but  with  less  fatigue 
than  he  had  known  in  his  first  tour  to  Tennessee  and 
the  farther  West. 

He  was  now  needing  rest,  and  he  found  it  in  his 
quiet  home  at  Summerfield.  Here  cultivated  Chris- 
tian society,  congenial  in  every  way,  provided  him 
with  those  social  enjoyments  which  he  was  fond  of, 
and  for  a  while  his  sky  was  calm,  but  the  clouds  were 
again  gathering.  He  went  to  the  Commencement  at 
Macon,  and  thence  to  Newton  to  see  his  dear  chil- 
dren Hennie  and  Elizabeth.    Elizabeth  met  him  with 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


431 


her  sweet,  loving  smile  and  her  tender  kiss,  as  she  had 
done  for  nearly  forty  years  of  her  beautiful  life.  In  a 
week's  time  he  buried  her.  Stricken  again,  he  bent 
his  submissive  head,  and  went  on  about  his  work. 
His  Episcopal  charge  was  the  Tennessee  and  Holston 
Conferences,  and  from  these  he  once  more  came  to  the 
South  Carolina  Conference.  Into  this  Conference  he 
came  forty-three  years  before.  Not  a  single  man  of 
those  who  were  active  then  was  in  the  work  now, 
Henry  Bass  and  Reddick  Pierce,  now  retired,  were 
waiting  for  their  change.  As  he  looked  over  the  Con- 
ference, although  the  fathers  were  missing  he  found 
the  sons  in  their  places.  W.  M.  Wightman,  in  the 
splendor  of  his  power,  was  President  of  the  newly  es- 
tablished Wofford  College,  and  Whitefoord  Smith, 
whose  career  had  been  so  brilliant  and  useful,  was 
professor  in  the  same  college.  The  four  sons  of  his 
old  colleague,  John  Mood,  were  members  of  the  Con- 
ference. Francis  M.  Kennedy,  the  son  of  his  first 
Presiding  Elder,  was  now  admitted  into  full  connec- 
tion— after  the  Conference  adjourned  he  came  once 
more  to  preside  over  the  Georgia  Conference.  The 
first  name  on  the  list  of  applicants  for  admission  on 
trial  was  his  son-in-law  Robert  W.  Lovett,  who  had 
buried  his  wife  the  summer  before.  As  the  Bishop 
surveyed  this  Conference  he  sadly  asked,  where  were 
the  co-laborers  of  his  early  years.  One  of  them  was 
left,  Lovick  Pierce,  all  the  rest  were  gone. 

He  remained  at  home  during  the  spring  and  sum- 
mer of  1857  rnaking,  during  the  time,  a  visit  to  New- 
ton County  to  his  children.  He  had  for  years  suffered 
with  occasional  attacks  of  bowel  disease.  During  the 
summer  he  was  quite  ill,  but  rallied  sufficiently  to  at- 


432 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


tempt  his  annual  visitation.  When  he  reached  Boon- 
ville,  Mo.,  after  having  presided  over  the  St.  Louis 
and  Missouri  Conferences  he  found  himself  unable  to 
go  forward — and  for  the  only  time  in  his  life  he  turned 
his  back  on  his  work  and  returned  home. 

During  May,  1858,  the  Fourth  General  Conference 
of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South  met  in 
Nashville.  It  was  an  uneventful,  unexciting  session. 
As  soon  as  it  was  over  he  returned  to  Alabama  and 
in  the  fall  presided  over  the  Holston,  Tennessee,  South 
Carolina,  and  Florida  Conferences. 

In  the  spring  of  1859  he  made  a  rapid  tour  through 
Georgia  and  then  returned  to  Alabama,  where  he  re- 
mained until  early  in  the  autumn  when  he  began  his 
tour  through  West  Virginia,  Kentucky,  Louisville, 
Memphis,  and  Louisiana. 

While  he  was  at  home  his  pen  was  busier  than 
ever  before.  During  this  year  the  Publishing  House 
published  a  volume  of  biographical  sketches  of  dis- 
tinguished men  from  the  various  Conferences.  To 
him  was  assigned  Dr.  Robert  W.  Kennon,  who  died 
at  Tuscaloosa,  and  he  produced  a  short  but  interest- 
ing sketch  of  him.  Dr.  Sprague,  who  was  preparing 
his  interesting  annals  of  the  Methodist  Pulpit,  drew  on 
him  for  sundry  sketches,  which  he  willingly  gave.  He 
supplied  the  Quarterly  with  sketches  of  McKendree 
and  Capers,  and  sent  valuable  contributions  to  the 
Home  Circle, 

He  had  now  been  for  some  years  on  the  east  side 
of  the  Mississippi,  but  during  the  fall  of  i860  he  for 
the  first  time  made  a  visit  to  the  remote  frontier  of 
Texas,  presiding  over  the  Rio  Grande  as  well  as  the 
Texas  and  East  Texas  Conferences. 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  433 


This  was  next  to  the  last  visit  he  made  to  this  great 
and  young  State.  Nearly  twenty  years  before  he  had 
•first  gone  to  this  republic.  At  that  time  there  was  only 
a  little  band  of  heroic  men  forming  one  small  Con- 
ference ;  now,  there  were  three  Conferences,  two  of 
them  quite  large.  At  that  time  there  had  been  few 
appointments  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  State  and  in 
the  larger  cities  ;  there  were  now  stations  and  circuits 
reaching  from  the  Rio  Grande  to  the  Sabine,  and  from 
the  Gulf  to  the  territories  on  the  north.  The  work 
was  very  hard,  and  successive  droughts  had  made 
this  year  one  which  was  especially  trying.  He  made 
the  trips  by  boat  to  Galveston  and  thence  into  the 
interior,  and  then  returned  to  Alabama. 

On  his  way  t«  California  he  was  deeply  impressed 
with  the  religious  destitution  of  Central  America. 
His  heart  was  stirred  within  him  as  he  saw  the  whole 
land  given  to  idolatry.  The  American  population  at 
Panama  proposed  to  support  a  missionary,  and  he  re- 
solved to  send  several  men  to  Central  America.  Dr. 
Jefferson  Hamilton,  whose  health  was  feeble,  con- 
sented to  go  on  a  prospecting  expedition.  When  he 
reached  the  ground  he  reported  in  favor  of  sending  at 
least  three  missionaries,  two  for  Bogota  and  one  for 
Panama.  The  Bishop  entered  heartly  into  these  plans 
and  began  to  inquire  very  anxiously  for  the  men. 
The  missionary  treasury  was  empty,  and  the  men 
difficult  to  find,  and  before  the  mission  was  established 
the  war  was  upon  us.  The  move  of  the  Southern 
Methodist  Church  upon  the  Spanish  American  races 
of  America  was  deferred  for  nearly  twenty  years.  He 
was  always  in  the  van  in  missionary  movements.  From 
1 8 17,  when,  as  a  young  preacher  in  Wilmington,  his 
19 


434 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


heart  burned  within  him  as  he  read  of  the  deeds  of 
the  Missionaries  in  India  and  longed  to  be  there,  until 
he  died,  there  was  no  abatement  in  his  fervor.  Afri- 
cans, Chinese,  Hindostanese,  South  Americans,  In- 
dians, and  negroes  were  each  objects  of  his  concern. 
To  find  men,  to  get  money,  were  with  him  only  ques- 
tions of  time.  He  believed  in  God  and  the  Church. 
He  believed  that  if  it  went  forward  God  would  pro- 
vide the  means  for  its  progression.  Others  were  not 
so  sanguine,  and  the  eager  heart  of  the  Bishop  was 
sadly  tried  by  the  want  of  faith  and  of  consecration. 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


435 


CHAPTER  XII. 


DURING  THE  WAR. 


1861-1866. 


His  Political  Views.— Letters  to  his  Son.— Letter  from  General  T.  R.  R. 
Cobb. — Tour  of  1861. — Visit  to  Jimmie  in  Camp. — Last  Visits  to 
Henrietta. — Her  Death. — Letters  from  Merriwether  and  Reply. — 
Life  in  Summerfield  during  the  War. — Merriwether's  House  Sacked. 
Annie's  Account. — Letter  to  Merriwether. — Peace. 


HILE  he  was  engaged  in  this  hearty  work  for 


V  V  the  Church  the  country  was  in  a  storm  of 
angriest  poHtical  commotion.  He  had  Httle  use  for 
agitators,  North  or  South,  in  Church  or  State.  He 
was  a  moderate,  conservative  man.  He  looked  at 
everything  from  a  practical  standpoint ;  rode  no  hob- 
bies, and  was  ruled  by  none.  He  was  neither  an  anti- 
slavery  man  nor  an  abolitionist.  He  believed  that 
the  evils  of  slavery — and  he  saw  them  and  denounced 
them — were  more  easily  managed  than  the  evils  of  un- 
restricted freedom  to  a  race  as  ignorant  and  degraded 
as  the  negroes  were.  No  man  ever  had  a  truer  love  for 
the  negro  race.  No  man  ever  evinced  more  personal 
interest  for  their  good,  but  he  believed  immediate 
abolition  to  be  unwise  and  impracticable.  But  while 
this  was  true,  he  had  none  of  the  advanced  views  of 
the  more  extreme  Southerners.  The  negro  was  to 
him  a  man  and  a  brother  ;  to  help  him  every  way  was 


436 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  duty  of  the  stronger  race.  He  abhorred,  politi- 
cally, a  fire-eater  or  a  secessionist.  He  was  an  old- 
time  Whig  of  the  Webster  school,  and  probably  voted 
for  John  Bell  and  Edward  Everett  in  the  election  of 
i860.  He  did  not  believe  the  South  desired  disunion; 
he  did  not  believe  the  North  was  disposed  to  force 
abolition  upon  the  country. 

Nor  was  he  alarmed  at  the  noise  the  politicians 
made.  He  had  heard  it  thunder  before,  he  said, 
and  as  the  cloud  had  passed  away  with  no  serious  re- 
sults in  days  gone  by,  he  thought  it  would  again. 

But  the  war  came,  and  the  quiet,  peace-loving  old 
Bishop  found  the  land  invaded.  He  was  a  Union 
man  no  longer.  He  believed  in  the  justice  of  the 
Confederate  cause,  and  gave  it,  as  far  as  he  could, 
legitimate  encouragement. 

These  were  trying  times  in  Church  and  State,  and 
he  felt  the  need  of  constantly  keeping  before  the 
people  the  great  duty  of  personal  religion.  The  only 
freedom  he  urged  upon  them  was  freedom  from  sin. 

In  April  he  wrote  to  his  son  :  "  Truly,  we  live  in 
troublous  times.  God  knows  what  will  be  the  issue, 
but  the  Lord  Jehovah  reigns.  This  is  my  comfort ; 
we  have  been  a  wicked  people  North  and  South,  and 
possibly  God  intends  to  scourge  us  and  humble  us  till 
we  acknowledge  that  God  reigns  in  heaven  and 
among  the  children  of  men.  I  write  with  rather  a 
trembling  hand,  and  you  must  put  up  with  a  short 
letter.  If  ever  there  was  a  time  when  it  behooved  us 
to  watch  and  pray,  this  is  the  time.  Very  likely  the 
devil  will  make  us  believe  that  zeal  for  our  country  is 
quite  sufficient  to  justify  our  neglect  of  God.  Oh,  let 
us  keep  our  hearts  with  all  diligence.    God  bless  you, 


James  Osgood  A^tdrew. 


437 


my  son,  and  may  you  so  act  as  to  be  the  light  and 
comfort  of  my  last  days." 

"Confederate  flags,"  he  says  again,  "are  flying 
everywhere  ;  may  God  have  mercy  on  us,  and  save 
us  from  war  and  bloodshed." 

"  Great  talk,"  he  says,  in  May,  of  Lincoln  and  the 
war,  which,  by  the  way,  bids  fair  to  be  a  pretty  seri- 
ous business,  a  bloody  and  protracted  struggle,,  the 
end  and  the  cost  of  which  no  man  can  foresee.  The 
words  of  the  men  of  Gotham  are  exceedingly  bitter, 
and  give  evidence  of  deadly  hate  and  devilish  malig- 
nity. I  wish  most  earnestly  that  our  Southern  people 
would  carefully  avoid  any  approach  to  their  spirit  and 
language." 

I  doubt  whether  he  entered  into  the  war  excite- 
ment with  any  heartiness.  He  did  not  protest  against 
his  son  volunteering,  but  he  was  unwilling  for  him  to 
go  into  the  army  for  the  whole  war,  and  regretted 
that  Rush  became  a  captain  instead  of  a  chaplain. 

Jimmie  entered  the  army  as  a  member  of  Captain 
Lamar's  company,  in  the  legion  of  General  Thomas 
R.  R.  Cobb.  Over  thirty  years  before,  while  he  was 
pastor  in  Athens,  he  had  known  Howell  and  Thomas 
as  boys.  Now  Thomas  commanded  the  legion  in 
which  his  boy  was,  and  he  wrote  to  the  General  to 
have  an  eye  to  him.  General  Cobb  wrote  him  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Richmond,  August  21,  1861. 

"  Rev.  Bishop  Andrew  : 

Reverend  and  Dear  Sir — I  assure  you  that  your 
kind  letter  has  been  a  source  of  comfort  and  pleasure 
to  me.    You  did  know  me  as  a  boy,  and  I  have 


438 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


known  and  revered  you  ever  since  I  was  a  boy.  I 
do  thank  God  that  I  have  your  prayers.  Had  I  met 
you  I  would  have  asked  for  them. 

"  Mrs.  Toombs  told  me  that  your  boy  was  in  my 
command,  and  I  had  determined  to  hunt  him  up.  I 
will  certainly  comply  to  the  letter  with  your  request 
in  his  behalf.  He  could  not  be  in  a  better  company 
than  Lamar's.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  saw  a  more 
orderly  and  quiet  set  of  young  men  anywhere.  I  am 
glad  to  speak  proudly  of  all  my  men.  I  have  heard 
an  oath  but  once  since  I  have  had  them  in  camp,  and 
have  heard  of  only  one  drunken  man. 

My  dear  sir,  most  heartily  do  I  sympathize  in 
your  thankfulness  for  the  great  fact  that  our  people, 
our  whole  people,  are  looking  to  God  as  our  refuge 
and  strength.  I  confess  to  you  that  I  gather  strength 
and  hope  and  faith,  when  I  see  not  only  God's  provi- 
dences toward  us,  but  also  the  willing  acknowledg- 
ments of  our  people. 

"  I  beg  you  to  continue  your  prayers  for  me  and 
my  command,  and  that  you  may  remember  also  at 
God's  throne  the  loved  ones  we  have  all  left  at 
home. 

**  Drop  me  a  line  occasionally  which  appropriately 
could  be  read  to  the  regiment.  Your  name  will  help 
us,  and  I  know  your  words  will  lead  us  onward  in  the 
path  of  righteousness. 

Yours  truly, 

**Thos.  R.  R.  Cobb." 

It  was  now  time  to  go  on  his  conference  round. 
The  country  was  in  a  ferment.  Pastors  left  their 
flocks  to  enter  the  army  as  soldiers  and  as  chaplains. 


James  Osgood  Andreiv.  439 


Nothing  was  heard  but  war  !  war  !  The  son,  then  in 
the  fullness  of  confidence,  rejoicing  over  the  victories 
which  had  been  won,  had  little  fear  of  the  dread  fu- 
ture. The  Bishop's  first  Conference  was  the  Holston. 
This  was  the  only  Conference  in  which  there  was 
serious  division  of  sentiment,  and  it  met  in  the  town 
of  Greenville,  where  Senator  Andrew  Johnson  had  his 
home.  The  Bishop,  however,  held  the  Conference  to 
its  one  work  ;  he  left  to  Caesar  the  things  which  were 
Caesar's,  while  he  attended  directly  to  the  things  which 
were  God's.  The  Rev.  J.  H.  Brunner,  who  was  Sec- 
retary of  the  Conference  says  : 

"The  Bishop's  presidency  over  the  Conference  at 
Greenville  at  the  opening  of  the  war  was  good  in 
every  way,  but  was  marked  with  a  tinge  of  sadness 
uncommon  to  him.  As  Secretary  of  the  Conference 
I  was  brought  into  close  relations  with  him.  Going 
to  his  room  the  morning  after  conference  adjourned 
to  get  his  signature  to  the  recorded  minutes,  he  let 
fall  a  few  utterances  that  led  me  to  think  he  saw  far- 
ther into  the  coming  storm  than  most  of  his  contem- 
poraries. He  was  a  great  man,  and  as  good  as  he 
was  great." 

Leaving  Greenville  he  went  to  Emory  and  Henry 
College,  and  while  resting  a  little  while  with  his 
old  friend  Dr.  Wiley,  he  wrote  to  Rush,  then  at 
Memphis,  and  among  other  things  said  :  "  How  do 
you  get  on  as  a  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  midst  of 
the  excitements  of  camp  life  ?  Are  you  able  to  pos- 
sess your  soul  in  patience  and  in  peace  ?  Do  you  use 
the  influence  which  your  position  gives  you  to  do 


440 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


good  to  the  souls  of  your  own  ?  Oh,  let  your  charac- 
ter as  a  Christian  minister  ever  shine  forth  predomi- 
nant." He  went  from  Emory  and  Henry  to  Rich- 
mond, on  his  way  to  Norfolk.  The  capital  of  the 
Southern  Confederacy  was  thronged  with  soldiers. 
Dogget  was  presiding  elder,  living  in  Richmond. 
Jimmy  Duncan,  as  the  Bishop  always  called  him,  was 
editing  the  Advocate  and  preaching  to  immense 
crowds  at  Broad  Street ;  Bennett,  Rosser,  Lee,  and 
others  were  in  the  other  city  churches,  and  with  these 
brethren  he  held  sweet  counsel  for  a  few  days.  He 
then  went  to  Yorktown  to  see  Jimmy  in  his  camp, 
and  thence  to  Norfolk,  where  he  presided  over  the 
Conference,  after  which  he  hastened  home  to  Ala- 
bama. 

The  change  in  everything  made  it  necessary,  he 
thought,  that  he  should  leave  Summerfield  and  settle 
on  a  plantation,  which  he  called,  strangely  enough  for 
these  times,  *  Tranquilla.'  On  his  return  to  Ala- 
bama he  stopped  a  few  days  in  Newton  to  see  his 
dear  Hennie.  ,  She  had  been  ill  a  long  time,  and  was 
still  quite  feeble.  When  he  bade  her  good-by  she 
clung  tenderly  around  his  neck,  but  he  did  not  then 
think  it  was  her  last  fond  embrace.  Yet  he  was 
anxious  about  her,  and  on  January  23d  he  wrote  to 
Thomas : 

'*  Tranquilla,  January  23,  1862. 

Dear  Thomas  : 

Among  the  many  strange  discoveries  recently 
made,  one'  of  the  most  surprising  is  that  you  had  ac- 
tually written  me  a  letter  some  time  since,  for  which 
I  am  still  your  debtor,  and  as  I  don't  like  to  be  in  debt, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


441 


I  have  concluded  to  sit  down  this  gloomy  morning 
and  pay  off  that  score  at  least. 

"  Well,  how  are  you  all  these  rainy  times,  and  es- 
pecially how  is  my  precious  Henrietta  ?  I  got  Sallie's 
letter  a  day  or  two  since,  and  was  glad  to  hear  she 
was  slowly  improving.  I  feel  very  anxious  about  her. 
Do,  some  of  you,  write  me  every  day  or  two,  and  if 
she  gets  worse  write  me  instantly,  and  I  will,  God 
willing,  be  with  you  as  soon  as  possible.  I  was  glad 
to  know  from  Sallie's  letter  that  she  was  staid  on  the 
Redeemer  by  living  faith ;  that  she  was  still  able  to 
cast  all  her  cares  upon  God,  and  to  feel  a  fervent  as- 
surance that  her  precious  Savior  was  with  her  and 
would  order  all  things  in  the  very  best  way  for  her 
and  for  all  concerned.  Oh,  it  i^s  precious  to  feel  that  - 
our  Redeemer  lives,  and  lives  to  sympathize  with  and 
comfort  us  in  the  midst  of  all  of  life's  trials  and  sor- 
rows. Thank  God  our  High  Priest  can  be  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  He  knows  with 
what  sore  temptations  we  meet,  for  He  has  felt  the 
same.  For  many  years  Henrietta  has  been  endeavor- 
ing to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  now  her  heavenly 
Father  calls  her  to  glorify  Him  by  suffering.  This  is 
a  work  more  difficult  than  the  other,  and  equally 
important,  if  not  more  so.  But  when  in  tjiese  fires  of 
suffering,  God  will  enable  her  to  triumph.  Thanks  be 
unto  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  calling  her  to  pass  through  the 
fire.  God  is  testing  you  also,  and  trying  you  as  gold, 
and  when  I  have  seen  your  patient  and  affectionate 
attentions  to  my  precious  child,  I  have  felt  that  I  have 
loved  you  as  my  own  dear  son,  and  I  have  thanked 
God  for  giving  her  such  a  husband.  God  bless  you 
19* 


442 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


abundantly.  You  and  I  know  He  is  doing  it  and  will 
continue  to  do  it.  You  and  yours  are  never  forgotten 
in  our  approaches  to  the  mercy  seat. 

Emily  wrote  to  Hennie  a  day  or  two  since.  Hope 
she  has  received  it. 

"  Well,  here  we  are  on  a  plantation.  I  have  turned 
planter,  and  if  you  don't  look  'sharp  will  beat  you 
'  cropping.'  We  are  very  quiet,  and  the  *  old  lady  ' 
seems  greatly  to  enjoy  the  tranquillity  of  the  country. 
She  is  fixing  up  things  ever  so  nice,  and  as  soon  as 
Hennie  is  able  to  travel  you  must  bring  her  to  visit 
Emily  and  myself.  Give  our  love  to  your  mother 
and  Sallie,  and  much  love  and  many  kisses  for  the 
children,  and  just  as  much  love  to  dear  Hennie  as  a 
•  letter  can  carry.    God  bless  you  all. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

Only  a  few  days  after  this  letter  was  written  he  re- 
ceived the  following  from  his  son-in-law.  Hennie,  his 
bright,  poetic,  affectionate,  pious  daughter,  had  joined 
the  mother  and  sister  beyond  the  waves  : 

"Airy  Mount,  January  57,  1862. 

"  Dear  Bishop  : 

'*  The  long-dreaded  blow  has  fallen  at  last,  and  I  feel 
crushed  and  ruined  so  far  as  this  world  is  concerned. 
My  precious  wife  breathed  her  last  this  morning  a 
little  after  one  o'clock,  and  oh,  what  a  happy  release 
to  her  !  She  had  been  a  great  sufferer  for  the  last  three 
months — indeed,  I  might  say  fcr  the  last  four  or  five 
years.  I  have  just  been  handed  your  letter,  but  dear 
Hennie  is  not  here  to  receive  your  sympathy  or  kind 


J 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


443 


words  of  encouragement.  She  is  where  sickness  and 
sorrow  never  come.  No  more  suffering  now,  no  more 
pain.  But  oh,  Bishop,  what  a  void  is  here  !  how  des- 
olate and  dreary  everything  looks  and  feels  !  Pray 
for  me,  especially  that  I  may  have  grace  and  wisdom 
to  raise  our  children  as  I  know  she  would  have  done 
had  she  lived.  How  much  they  have  lost  in  their 
mother,  and  how  I  fear  I  shall  fail  in  my  duty  to  them  ! 
She  felt  great  anxiety  about  Henry,  and  just  before 
she  died  laid  her  hand  on  his  head  and  said,  '  Oh,  my 
boy ! '  I  pray  God  that  he  may  never  forget  the  pres- 
ence of  that  hand.  Annie  feels  the  death  of  her  mother 
very  deeply,  and  I  fear  its  effect  upon  her  health,  but 
she  bears  up  like  the  Christian  I  believe  she  is.  This 
morning  before  breakfast  she  came  into  my  room,  and 
seeing  me  weeping  said  :  *  Don't  cry,  papa  ;  mother  is 
happy  now,  and  if  we  live  right  we  will  go  to  her.' 

Oh,  Bishop,  I  feel  so  desolate.  When  in  the 
house  I  was  always  with  Hennie,  and  if  she  was  not 
in  the  room  when  I  entered,  my  first  question  was  to 
ask  where  she  was,  and  if  not  very  particularly  en- 
gaged, she  came  in  and  stayed  with  me.  She  was 
my  counselor  and  adviser — and  how  competent  she 
was  to  advise  me.  How  shall  I  get  along  without  her 
restraining  influence  ?  Oh,  what  a  help  she  has  been 
to  me,  and  how  much  I  owe  to  her.  Bishop,  I  knew 
her  well,  and  I  can  most  conscientiously  say  that  I 
don't  believe  there  ever  lived  a  more  unselfish,  pure- 
minded  woman.  I  am  confident  she  did  not  have  an 
enemy  in  the  world.  Hennie  requested  me,  just  be- 
fore her  death,  to  write  and  tell  you  that  she  thought 
of  you,  and  prayed  for  you  to  the  last,  and  that  she 
loved  Cousin  Emily  dearly. 


444 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


•'Bishop,  no  father  ever  had  a  more  affectionate, 
reverential  daughter  than  you  had  in  Hennie,  and  I 
know  you  will  feel  her  loss  greatly.  She  expected 
you  to  write  her  obituary,  and  told  me  to  ask  you  not 
to  say  much  about  her,  for  she  felt  that  she  was  not 
worthy  of  much.  As  to  her  spiritual  condition,  I 
know  that  all  was  well.  She  said  that  while  she  did 
not  feel  that  ecstacy  which  she  had  sometimes  experi- 
enced, yet  her  confidence  in  God  was  unshaken.  She 
did  not,  through  her  whole  sickness,  express  a  doubt 
as  to  her  acceptance  with  God  or  her  preparation  for 
the  great  change.  I  never  saw  so  uncomplaining, 
patient  a  sufferer.  I  did  not  hear  a  single  murmur 
escape  her  lips,  and  I  was  with  her  nearly  all  the 
time.  It  is  a  great  gratification  to  me  to  know  that  I 
stayed  so  much  with  her  during  her  sickness,  and  to 
the  best  of  my  ability  tried  to  alleviate  her  suffering, 
and  I  shall  always  cherish  with  pleasure  her  loving 
words  of  gratitude.  I  rarely  did  the  most  trivial 
thing  for  her  without  receiving  sweetest  thanks  for  it. 

"But,  dear  Bishop,  I  feel  incompetent  to  write 
more.  I  have  wished  so  much  this  morning  that  you 
were  here,  that  I  might  pour  out  my  whole  heart  to 
you.    I  need  your  advice  so  much. 

"  Give  a  great  deal  of  love  to  Cousin  Emily. 

"We  expect  to  bury  Hennie  to-morrow  morning 
in  Oxford.  Luther  Smith  will  preach  her  funeral 
sermon. 

"Yours  most  affectionately, 

"T.  M.  Merriwether." 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  445 


REPLY. 

"January  31,  1862. 

My  Dear  Thomas  : 

"  Your  letter,  bringing  the  sad  tidings  of  your  great 
loss  and  mine,  reached  me  on  yesterday  morning. 
Need  I  say  it  took  me  by  surprise.  Although  I  knew 
that  my  precious  child  was  very  feeble,  yet  she  had 
been  so  long  in  delicate  health  that  I  thought  she 
would  probably  linger  for  some  time  yet,  and  I  in- 
tended very  shortly  to  have  again  written  her.  Oh, 
if  I  had  thought,  when  she  so  fondly  clung  around  my 
neck  and  kissed  me  as  I  bade  her  farewell,  that  I  was 
gazing  on  her  sweet  face  for  the  last  time,  I  would  have 
lingered  about  her  habitation  till  the  struggle  was  over. 
But  I  shall  never  hear  that  gentle  voice  again  till  I 
hear  it  among  the  angels  around  the  throne  of  God. 

"From  my  soul  I  sympathize  with  you  and  with 
those  precious  children,  who  are  thus  early  deprived 
of  a  mother's  love  and  care.  That,  I  have  no  doubt, 
will  be  supplied,  as  far  as  possible,  by  your  excellent 
mother ;  but  oh,  who  can  fill  the  void  in  your  heart 
and  in  your  domestic  relations  ?  You  have  not  only 
lost  a  devoted  wife,  but  a  wise  and  gentle  counselor, 
whose  influence  over  you  was  always  for  good.  I 
have  often  thought  what  a  blessing  it  was  for  you 
that  you  had  just  such  a  wife.  Well,  God  has  done 
it,  and  He  will  give  you  grace  to  meet  your  increased 
responsibilities.  Only  look  to  Him  for  the  grace  ne- 
cessary, and  cast  your  all  upon  Him  who  hath  said 
that  He  careth  for  yow.  Oh,  that  this  severe  stroke 
may  be  sanctified  to  the  increased  consecration  of  all 
our  hearts  to  His  service  and  glory.  Oh,  how  my 
heart  yearns  over  you  all,  especially  dear  little  Annie. 


446 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


May  the  Good  Shepherd  have  her  in  His  special  care. 
I  know  how  deeply  dear  Hennie  felt  for  Henry.  I 
hope  he  will  never  forget  her  dying  charge  and  her 
earnest  prayers  for  him,  and  may  he  live  to  honor  the 
memory  of  his  mother.  And  my  precious  little  Hen- 
nie, too  young  to  know  the  greatness  of  her  loss. 
God  take  the  dear  little  lamb  into  His  own  care  ! 
Your  mother,  I  know,  feels  the  loss  as  keenly  as  any 
of  you,  but  to  her  there  is  this  satisfaction,  that  it 
cannot,  in  the  course  of  nature,  be  long  before  she  will 
meet  the  loved  and  lost  in  the  land  of  eternal  rest. 

All  you  say  of  my  precious  child  as  a  daughter  is 
strictly  true.  Never  did  a  father  have  a  more  obedient, 
devoted  child.  I  don't  remember  that  she  ever  gave 
me  pain  by  an  act  of  disobedience  since  she  was  a  very 
small  child,  but  her  every  act  and  word  showed  that 
she  reverenced,  honored,  and  loved  her  father  with 
her  heart's  deep  devotion,  and  her  love  met  a  full 
response  from  me.  I  loved  and  admired  her  greatly, 
and  I  had  hoped  to  enjoy  many  more  hours  of  sweet 
communion  before  either  of  us  was  called  across  the 
dark  river.  But  God  has  ordered  it  otherwise,  and  no 
doubt  it  is  all  right.  Well,  it  cannot  be  long  before 
we  will  meet  again. 

"  Yesterday  was  a  sad  day,  and  last  night — oh,  how 
gloomy  !  But  I  have  endeavored  to  call  upon  God 
and  trust  him,  and  my  soul  feels  this  morning  a  sweet, 
calm  assurance  that  God  is  in  it  all.  I  have  been 
thinking  of  the  meeting  of  our  departed  loved  ones. 
No  doubt,  her  precious  mother  was  the  first  to  greet 
her  on  her  arrival,  and  her  sisters — the  dear  children 
whom  God  gathered  home  years  ago.  No  doubt, 
they  all  welcomed  her  to  the  joyful  home  of  the  Re- 


James  Osgood  Andrew,  447 


deemer,  where  they  shall  never  again  hear  of  war,  or 
sin,  or  death.  Oh,  may  we  all  join  them  there  when 
our  pilgrimage  is  ended. 

Emily  wrote  to  you  and  Sallie  yesterday.  Give 
our  love  to  all,  white  and  black.    God  bless  you." 

He  visited  the  desolate  home  at  Airy  Mount,  and, 
taking  with  him  his  two  little  granddaughters,  re- 
turned to  Tranquilla.  He  was  watching  the  progress 
of  the  war  with  some  anxiety,  for  if  Mobile  fell  the 
whole  section  in  which  he  lived  would  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Federals.  There  had  been  quite  a  re- 
verse on  the  coast,  and  he  writes  to  Merriwether  to 
come  for  them,  lest  he  should  be  cut  off ;  but  the  ene- 
my did  not  at  that  time  reach  the  centre  of  Alabama. 

He  was  trying  to  carry  on  his  farm,  but  a  terrible 
drought  was  burning  up  the  fields  ;  Rush  had  been 
captured  at  Island  Number  Ten ;  Jimmie  was  in 
Maryland.  He  was  tried  on  all  sides.  He  came 
over,  however,  to  camp-meeting  in  Newton,  after 
which  he  returned  to  Tranquilla.  The  tidings  of 
bloody  battles  in  Maryland  came.  Jimmie's  regiment 
had  been  engaged,  and  was  terribly  cut  up.  His 
trommand  belonged  to  the  immortal  corps  which  held 
the  passes  of  the  Cumberland  Mountains.  They  had 
fought  a  fierce  fight,  and  he  fell  wounded  and  was  cap- 
tured. His  father  heard  nothing  from  him  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  dear  old  man  was  making  ready  to  go 
and  search  for  the  boy,  and  so  wrote  to  Merriwether. 

"Tranquilla,  October  21,  1862. 

*'  My  Dear  Thomas  : 

"A  few  days  since  Emily  received  Sarah's  very 
welcome  letter.    We  thank  God  for  Henry's  con- 


448 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


tinued  improvement,  although  'tis  slow,  which  of 
course  might  be  expected.  We  hope  and  devoutly 
pray  that  the  God  who  has  begun  the  cure  will  be 
graciously  pleased  to  complete  it,  and  he  will  in  the 
meanwhile  sanctify  the  sore  affliction  through  which 
he  has  passed  to  the  good  of  his  undying  spirit.  Oh, 
may  he  never  forget  the  obligations  he  is  under  to  a 
gracious  God  for  snatching  him,  as  it  were,  from  the 
very  jaws  of  death  ;  and  when  he  shall  be  restored 
may  he  show  his  love  and  gratitude  to  his  Savior  by 
a  life  of  consecration  to  His  service.  I  want  you  to 
tell  Anderson  and  Cynthia '  that  I  sympathize  with 
them  in  the  loss  of  their  child.  I  know  they  will  feel 
it  deeply,  but  they  must  trust  in  God.  He  will  do  all 
things  right.  God  bless  them  both.  I  have  thus  far 
looked  in  vain  for  tidings  from  my  poor  boy.  I  can't 
help  feeling  a  good  deal  of  anxiety.  I  would  go  to 
him,  would  have  been  before  now,  but  don't  know 
where  to  find  him.  However,  if  I  hear  nothing  short- 
ly, I  shall  be  obliged  to  go  on  and  try  to  look  him  up. 
I  think  if  he  were  able  he  would  certainly  have  writ- 
ten, either  he  or  Hardy,  even  if  they  are  prisoners  ; 
they  might  occasionally  find  sorne  conveyance  for  ^ 
letter  by  flag  of  truce.  But  I  have  from  the  begin- 
ning tried  to  commend  him  to  God,  and  must  do  so 
still,  calmly  and  strictly.  In  a  short  time  I  must  start 
to  the  Mississippi  Conference.  I  think  I  may  safely 
venture,  unless  something  new  shall  take  place  in 
Mississippi.  If  I  go  I  shall  go  from  here  to  Dem- 
opolis,  from  there  to  Meridian. 

"  Have  only  some  twenty  miles  of  staging  to  do  be- 


Colored  people. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


449 


tween  here  and  there,  and  thence  by  rail  to  Jackson 
and  Grenada  or  Holly  Springs.  Such  is  my  present 
purpose,  but  none  can  tell  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth." 

"October  24th. 

''This  morning  received  your  very  welcome  letter. 
The  news  from  Jimmie  is  cheering  and  will  enable  me 
to  leave  home  with  more  pleasure  than  I  could  other- 
wise have  done. 

"  My  wife  joins  me  in  love  to  you  all.  God  bless 
you. 

Affectionately, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

Ere  he  mailed  the  letter  he  heard  from  Merriwether 
— Jimmie  was  captured  not  killed.  The  incident  of 
his  capture  he  has  been  kind  enough  to  give  us. 

From  JAMES  O.  ANDREW,  Jr. 

"  About  midday  on  September  14,  1862,  while 
Cobb's  brigade  was  lying  at  the  village  of  Sandy 
Hook,  forming  part  of  the  force  investing  Harper's 
Ferry,  we  were  ordered  b^ck  to  Crampton's  Gap, 
eight  miles  to  the  rear,  to  hold  the  gap  against  a 
column  of  Federals  thrown  forward  to  strike  Lee's 
rear  and  save  Harper's  Ferry.  The  march  was  rapid, 
the  weather  hot,  and  when  we  reached  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  and  halted  to  rest,  rapid  firing,  two  miles 
ahead,  made  us  understand  the  command,  'Forward  ! 
double  quick,*  which  was  immediately  given.  Away, 
with  beating  hearts  and  panting  breath  dashed  the 
gallant  brigade  without  pause  through  those  two  miles 
of  steep  turnpike  till  halted  at  the  gap  to  unsling 


450 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


knapsacks  ;  then  deploying  into  a  little  clearing  to  the 
right  of  the  road,  the  regiment  formed  in  line  of  bat- 
tle, and  as  the  handful  of  pickets  retired  before  the 
advancing  foe,  the  command  rang  out,  '  Forward ! 
double  quick  !  charge  ! '  and  Cobb's  legion,  with  the 
wild  yell  of  the  Confederate  troops,  dashed  down  the 
mountain-side  like  a  torrent,  and  as  it  broke  like  a 
mighty  wave  over  a  stone  wall  across  the  pike  the 
horse  of  the  gallant  Lamar  fell  under  him,  riddled  with 
balls.  Just  at  that  moment  the  glorious  Colonel 
stands  at  the  head  of  the  column,  and  as  he  waves  his 
sword  the  '  charge '  rings  out  like  a  trumpet-call,  and 
the  surging  tide  of  gray  hurls  itself  down  into  the  rug- 
ged forest  against  the  line  of  blue,  which  reels, 
staggers,  and  falls  back.  But  what  avails  it  ?  Two 
lines  of  battle  stay  the  retreat,  and  the  three  lines  ad- 
vance with  murderous  fire.  At  the  same  time  a 
column  of  Federals  advance  up  the  pike  at  a  double 
quick,  and  striking  the  Twenty-fourth  Georgia  ere  it 
can  form,  scatters  it,  and  then  turning  about  pours  its 
deadly  fire  upon  the  rear  of  the  two  regiments  which 
stand  between  them  and  the  three  advancing  lines  of 
battle,  almost  at  pistol  range.  The  work  of  death  is 
terrible.  Lamar  has  fallen  mortally  wounded,  Captain 
Conyers  disabled.  Lieutenant  Sims  lies  with  his 
face  upturned  and  a  bullet  through  his  brain,  and  all 
around  me  the  dead  and  wounded  are  lying.  But  one 
man  is  left  standing  near  me,  and  as  I  miss  the  firing 
and  turn  to  look,  I  see  the  shattered  remnant  of  the  line 
is  falling  back.  Alas  !  the  order  has  come  too  late. 
Across  their  path  of  retreat  stands  a  living  wall  of 
blue,  upon  the  muzzles  of  whose  guns  they  are  ad- 
vancing to  surrender  or  die.    As  I  turn  to  follow  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


451 


retreating  line,  a  ball  tears  through  my  thigh  and  I 
fall.  Soon  the  firing  ceases,  and  as  the  advancing 
lines  pass  over  us,  I  ask  a  man  for  water,  for  I  am  dy- 
ing of  thirst,  and  my  own  canteen  has  been  torn  open 
by  a  ball.  He  stoops  to  give  it,  and  as  he  does  so, 
tells  me  there  is  a  surgeon  just  down  the  hill  who  will 
stanch  my  wound  if  I  can  get  to  him.  He  points  me 
to  where  he  is,  and  promises  to  look  me  up  when  the 
line  halts.  I  drag  myself  a  hundred  yards  and  find  a 
crowd  of  wounded  collected  about  a  small  fire,  and 
the  surgeon  is  busy.  Ah  !  the  sickening  scenes  of  a 
battle-field  when  the  fighting  is  done.  I  gaze  upon  it 
with  too  much  pain  to  take  in  all  its  horrors.  Every 
thread  of  clothing  upon  me  is  saturated  with  perspira- 
tion. I  have  bled  until  it  seems  there  can  be  little 
blood  left  in  me,  and  the  chilliness  of  a  September 
night  in  the  mountains  has  succeeded  the  burning 
heat  of  the  day.  My  wound  is  getting  terribly  sore.  I 
cannot  bear  the  slightest  movement  of  a  muscle,  yet. 
I  shiver  with  cold  till  I  am  shaken  into  the  intensest 
agony.  I  search  eagerly  among  the  passing  soldiers 
for  my  acquaintance  of  the  battle-field,  the  man  with  a 
canteen  and  heart. 

Ah  !  here  he  comes,  and  with  him  a  comrade.  He 
recognizes  me,  and  they  both  take  me  up  tenderly  and 
lay  me  nearer  the  fire.  Then,  searching  among  the 
dead  lying  so  thickly  around  us,  they  bring  a  couple 
of  overcoats  and  a  blanket  and  throw  them  over  me. 
I  have  eaten  nothing  since  early  morning,  and  am 
weak  and  faint.  They  make  me  a  can  of  strong  cof- 
fee— real  coffee.  If  there  was  anything  that  reconciled 
a  man  to  being  wounded  and  captured  it  was  a  cup  of 
real  coffee.    Coffee  and  crackers — I  have  seen  neither 


452 


The  Life  ajid  Letters  of 


for  a  long  time.  My  spirits  rose  as  I  drank  the  fra- 
grant draught,  and  my  two  friends  of  the  Third  New 
Jersey  and  myself,  who  an  hour  before  had  been  shoot- 
ing at  each  other  with  deadly  intent,  lay  down  together 
upon  the  bloody  ground  beneath  the  peaceful  stars 
and  chatted  pleasantly,  I  with  a  heart  full  of  gratitude, 
and  they  with  the  generous  magnanimity  of  brave  and 
noble  natures  that  were  full  of  tenderness  for  a  fallen 
foe.  They  slept  beside  me  at  length,  a  sleep  of  weari- 
ness and  peace.  I  did  not  sleep,  for  I  was  aching  with 
cold,  chilled  to  the  bone.  But  their  kindness  kept 
me  alive.  My  prayers  have  followed  them  all  these 
years. 

"  Such  is,  as  briefly  as  I  can  state  it,  the  story  of  our 
regiment  that  day.  Howell  Cobb  had  almost  carried 
out  his  orders,  which  were  to  hold  the  gap  if  it  cost 
the  last  man  he  had.  Three  days  afterward  his  glori- 
ous old  battalion  went  into  the  battle  of  Sharpsburg 
with  twenty-five  men  and  one  commissioned  officer. 
Out  of  my  own  company  of  forty-five  men  twelve  were 
killed  on  the  field,  five  escaped,  and  all  the  rest  were 
wounded  or  captured." 

In  November  the  Bishop  came  to  Macon  and  pre- 
sided over  the  Georgia  Conference.  Bishop  Pierce 
was  with  him  until  after  the  Sabbath,  and  relieved  him 
of  much  of  the  labor  of  making  the  appointments. 
From  Macon  he  went  to  the  Florida  Conference,  which 
met  in  Tallahassee.  After  this  session  was  over  he  re- 
turned to  Tranquilla.  Dr.  Lovett  had  sent  his  whole 
family  of  children  to  see  their  grandfather.  The  en- 
joyment which  the  dear  old  man  had  in  their  com- 
pany was  very  great,  and  his  predictions  of  what  they 
would  be  was  at  least  in  one  respect  accurate.  Willie, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


453 


he  thought,  would  be  a  preacher,  and  so  he  is,  sta- 
tioned now  at  St.  Paul's  church,  Columbus. 

The  war  was  to  him  an  accursed  thing,  and  he  turned 
from  its  horrors  to  consider  the  delights  of  that  heaven 
to  which  he  was  going.  Death  held  high  carnival  in 
those  days,  and  his  sister  Betsy  had  lost  two  fine  boys. 
He  writes  her  in  February,  1863  : 

"Tranquilla,  February  5,  1863. 

My  Dear  Sister  : 

**  Some  days  since  I  learned  through  my  children 
the  sad  tidings  of  the  death  of  your  son  and  daughter. 
I  know  well  how  to  sympathize  with  you,  and  how  to 
appreciate  your  loss,  for,  as  you  well  know,  I  too 
have  buried  six  out  of  my  nine  children.  Three  of 
them  died  in  comparative  childhood.  The  other  three 
were  grown,  and  two  of  them  mothers,  which  ren- 
dered the  death  struggle  more  painful  to  them,  and  of 
course  more  painful  to  me.  I  loved  them  with  all  the 
warmth  of  a  fond  father's  heart,  and  had  looked  for- 
ward to  their  comfort  and  support  in  my  old  age. 
But  it  pleased  God  to  order  it  otherwise,  and  although 
I  now  can  seldom  restrain  my  tears  at  the  remem- 
brance of  them,  or  when  I  hear  their  names  called, 
yet  I  bless  God  that  there  has  been  no  rebellious  mur- 
murings  from  my  lips  or  heart. 

It  is  well,  for  the  Lord- hath  done  it,  and  I  know, 
too,  that  it  was  done  in  love  to  me  and  my  sainted 
children,  and  I  doubt  not  in  heaven  I  shall  praise 
God  for  having  taken  them.  I  gave  my  children  to 
God  in  infancy,  and  every  day  since  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  renew  the  dedication.  My  prayer  to  God  has 
constantly  been  that  they  might  all  be  gathered  to 


454 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


heaven  at  last.  Should  we  not  say  from  our  hearts, 
'  Good  is  the  will  of  the  Lord  ;  the  Lord  gave,  and 
the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord '  ? 

You,  my  sister,  have  been  singularly  favored. 
God  has  permitted  you  to  raise  a  large  family  of  chil- 
dren without  losing  one  until  lately.  Now  the  Lord 
is  trying  and  testing  your  faith  and  confidence  in  His 
goodness.  He  has  taken  three  of  your  dear  children 
to  Himself,  for  of  their  safety  none  can  doubt  who 
know  their  consistent  Christian  lives  and  their  peace- 
ful death.  You  were  not  permitted  to  watch  by  their 
dying  pillow  and  hear  the  last  words  of  the  depart- 
ed as  they  lost  sight  of  earth  and  entered  the  heav- 
enly world,  and  this,  possibly,  may  add  to  your 
grief.  But  this,  too,  was  ordered  by  a  kind  and 
unerring  Providence,  who  always  knows  and  does 
what  is  best  for  them  that  humbly  and  heartily  trust 
in  Him. 

Your  two  sons  were  noble  boys,  and  God  loved 
them  and  took  them.  And  dear  Matilda  ! — what  a 
crowning  victory  was  her  death  !  That  she  now  rests 
with  God  cannot  be  doubted.  God  bless  and  save 
her  children  and  husband.  He  has  my  sympathy  in 
his  sad  bereavement.  Remember  that  whom  the 
Lord  loveth  He  chasteneth.  We  all  soon  shall  pass 
away.  Our  children  have  only  gone  a  little  before 
us.  It  will  not  be  long  before  the  chariot  which  bore 
our  children  home  will  call  for  us.  Oh  !  that  we  may 
be  ready  when  the  Master  calls. 

Give  my  love  to  your  excellent  husband  and  dear 
children.  The  family  is,  with  the  exception  of  some 
of  the  servants,  tolerably  well.    God  bless  you." 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


455 


During  the  larger  part  of  this  year  he  remained  at 
Tranquilla.  He  was  still  trying  to  manage  a  planta- 
tion. The  times  were  very  dark  and  grew  darker. 
Drought  had  cut  short  the  corn  supply ;  cotton  could 
not  find  any  market  ;  the  army  called  imperatively 
for  a  tenth  of  all  that  was  made,  and  seizures  were 
made  of  cattle  and  provisions  of  all  kinds  in  order  to 
feed  the  troops.  The  times  were  not  favorable  for 
any  travel,  and  no  General  Conference  could  meet. 
The  members,  however,  of  the  Mission  Boards  and  of 
the  Book  Committee,  and  the  editors,  met  with  the 
Bishop  during  the  year  for  consultation.  In  the  fall 
he  attended  the  Mississippi  Conference,  and  at  Bishop 
Paine's  request  he  visited  him,  and  writes  to  Lovett 
from  the  Bishop's  home. 

"Aberdeen,  Miss.,  November  19,  1863. 

Dear  Robert  : 

I  think  I  am  a  letter  in  your  debt,  but  am  not 
certain.  At  any  rate  I  will  drop  you  a  few  lines.  I 
left  home  three  weeks  since,  during  which  time  I  have 
not  heard  a  word  from  home.  I  have  visited  Enter- 
prise, Meridian,  Brandon,  and  Canton  on  my  way  to 
the  Mississippi  Conference  at  Kosciusko.  At  the  close 
of  that  Conference  I  came  to  this  place  to  assist  Bishop 
Paine  at  the  Memphis  Conference,  which  closed  its 
session  on  Tuesday  last.  Several  of  the  brethren  from 
within  the  enemy's  lines  attend  the  Conference.  The 
tales  they  tell  of  Yankee  outrages  are  not  calculated  to 
increase  our  love  for  our  invaders,  or  to  make  us  de- 
sire to  be  reunited  to  them.  You  who  live  away  down 
there  in  the  piney  woods  of  Scriven  know  nothing  of 
the  horrors  of  the  war,  nor  can  you  too  deeply  sym- 


456 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


pathize  with  the  unfortunate  refugees  who  have  fled 
from  Yankee  outrage  and  oppression.  The  fairest 
portions  of  the  southwest  have  been  laid  waste  and 
desolated,  and  if  peace  should  come  to-morrow  it 
would  be  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  century  before  it  can 
be  restored  even  to  comparative  prosperity.  God  be 
merciful  to  us. 

"The  Alabama  Conference  meets  in  Columbus, 
Miss.,  next  Wednesday,  and  I  expect  to  leave  for 
that  place  to-morrow.  I  shall  probably  reach  home 
the  first  week  in  December.  Shall  leave  again  in 
about  a  week  for  the  Florida  Conference  in  Thomas- 
ville,  Ga.  Some  time  during  my  trip  I  intend  (D.  V.) 
to  call  and  see  you  all,  for  I  greatly  desire  to  see 
you. 

"  I  hope  you  are  all  well  and  doing  well  temporally 
and  spiritually — more  especially  spiritually.  Ah  !  what 
is  life  after  all  our  anxiety  and  labor.  Much  the  largest 
part  of  the  crop  we  reap  here  is  disappointment  and 
trouble,  and  too  often  the  loss*  of  the  spiritual  enjoy- 
ment of  God  here,  and  not  unfrequently  the  loss  of 
heaven.  Oh  !  let  us  watch  constantly  and  pray  that 
God  may  keep  us  and  save  us. 

"  Write  to  me  when  you  can." 

Returning,  he  presided  over  the  Alabama  Con- 
ference at  Columbus,  Miss.,  and  then  the  Florida, 
which  met  in  Thomasville,  December  i6th.  I  was 
present  at  this  Conference,  and  have  a  tender  mem- 
ory of  the  occasion.  I  had  gone  to  Thomasville  with 
him  especially  to  visit  my  sister,  Mrs.  Col.  Young. 
She  was  taken  suddenly  and  alarmingly  ill.  All  day 
and  all  night  she  lingered  at  the  grave's  mouth. 


James  Osgood  Ajidrew. 


457 


About  the  dawn  a  servant  came  to  call  me  to  her 
bedside.  When  I  reached  it  I  found  her  given  over 
by  the  physicians  to  die.  She  had  been  named  for 
his  Ameha ;  he  had  baptized  her.  I  sent  at  once  to 
the  village  for  him.  In  less  than  an  hour  he  was  at 
her  bedside.  With  wonderful  sweetness  he  talked  to 
her  of  the  future,  and  then  said  :  "  But  perhaps,  my 
child,  God  will  spare  you  ;  let  us  ask  him,"  and  he  fell 
upon  his  knees.  The  prayer  was  simple,  earnest,  and 
confiding,  I  went  from  the  room  to  hide  my  emo- 
tion, and  in  less  than  jive  minutes  her  husband  came 
to  me^  sayings  "  She  is  safe.''  The  Bishop  rode  back  and 
was  ready  for  the  Conference  session  that  morning. 

His  talks  during  this  session  were  full  of  tenderness 
and  cheerfulness.  Dressed  in  blue  jeans,  with  a  wool 
hat  on  his  head,  he  w^as  rather  an  unbishoplike  old 
man  in  looks  ;  but  he  was  a  very  prelate  when  he  pre- 
sided. 

The  days  of  1864  were  days  of  peculiar  trial.  The 
public  interests  absorbed  all  thoughts.  Conscription 
had  reached  all  homes.  From  sixteen  to  sixty  the 
men  had  gone  to  the  field.  The  great  provision-rais- 
ing States  were  overrun,  and  the  cotton  country  was 
called  upon  to  feed  the  armies  and  the  people  who 
had  hitherto  fed  them. 

Victories  were  won  at  a  cost  which  rendered  other 
victories  impossible.  Preachers  were  driven  from 
their  pastoral  charges  to  do  anything  to  make  bread. 
Conferences  were  unable  to  meet.  The  Trans-Missis- 
sippi could  not  be  reached.  Kentucky,  West  Vir- 
ginia, Missouri  and  the  Pacific  were  entirely  cut  off. 

His  family  affairs  were  perplexing.  Jimmie  and 
Thomas  were  in  the  army.  His  delicate  wife  was 
20 


458 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


wor^  down  by  the  anxiety  which  was  eating  out  so 
many  hearts  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  all  he  was  calm  and 
untroubled.  His  soul  was  stayed  on  God,  and  he 
went  on  calmly  in  the  way  of  duty.  He  presided  over 
the  Mobile  Conference  in  November,  and  over  the| 
Montgomery  in  December.  i 
During  these  days  the  Federal  armies  had  been 
moving  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  heart  of  Georgia, 
and  had  captured  Atlanta,  and  now  Sherman  began 
his  famous  march  to  the  sea.  Merriwether  was  on  the 
march,  and  the  Federal  troops  paid  their  respects  to 
Airy  Mount.  Little  Annie  writes  her  grandfather  of 
this  visit. 

"  Airy  Mount,  January  9,  1865. 

My  Dear  Grandpa  : 

**  I  would  have  written  before,  but  I  did  not  think 
that  letters  would  go  through  ;  but  as  your  letter 
came  to  Aunt  Sallie,  I  will  now  write,  hoping  it  will 
reach  you  safely.  Uncle  Jimmie  and  Aunt  Sallie 
have  both  written  since  the  Yankees  were  here.  She 
says  don't  be  uneasy  about  her  clothing ;  she  is  not 
suffering  for  clothes.  Oh  !  Grandpa,  the  vile  invader 
has  again  entered  our  home,  and  what  they  left  be- 
fore they  took  this  time.  But  we  still  have  plenty  of 
bread  to  eat  and  a  house  to  live  in.  I  am  thankful 
for  that,  for  many  have  not  even  that.  They  threat- 
ened to  burn  our  house,  too,  because  they  found  our 
Confederate  flags.  They  did  so  much  meanness,  I 
can't  begin  to  tell  you  half  they  did  do.  '  Old  Cath- 
erine,' Sam,  Lizzie,  Adeline  and  Ben,  Mary  Ann's 
child,  went,  at  least  '  old  Catherine '  made  Ben  go. 
His  mother  was  in  Scriven. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


459 


"  The  Yankees  took  five  horses  from  us  this  time, 
and  Oh  !  Grandpa,  old  Betsy,  too.  I  could  not  help 
crying  when  I  found  they  had  taken  her.  I  loved  her 
because  she  was  my  darling  mother's  horse. 

"We  heard  from  father  not  very  long  ago.  He 
was  well,  and  expected  to  be  home  the  last  of  this 
week.  We  got  a  letter  from  Brother  Henry  on  Sat- 
urday.   He  was  very  well. 

**  And,  now,  dear  Grandpa,  I  come  to  the  saddest 
part  of  my  letter.  Aunt  Sallie  Lovett  is  dead.  She 
died  in  November  of  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs.  Now 
poor  Cousin  Lou  has  all  the  charge  of  them  children 
and  that  little  baby,  too.  Oh  !  Grandpa,  do  write  her 
a  long  letter.  It  will  do  her  so  much  good  to  get  a 
letter  from  you. 

Oh  !  Grandpa,  please  don't  take  Aunt  Sallie  home. 
We  will  be  so  lonely  without  her.  She  is  so  distressed 
about  Cousin  Lou.  Poor  cousin  !  I  feel  so  sorry  for 
her.  She  is  so  young  to  have  such  a  heavy  charge  on 
her  hands.  But  God  will  take  care  of  her.  Uncle 
Jimmie  will  start  home  soon,  so  don't  be  uneasy  about 
him. 

All  send  love  to  all.  The  darkies  send  howdy. 
Hennie  sends  a  kiss  to  all,  and  one  from  your  own 
little 

**  Granddaughter 

*'  Annie." 
He  wrote  to  Merriwether  in  February : 

*'  SUMMERFIELD,  February  2,  1865. 

My  Dear  Thomas  : 

I  have  been  for  some  time  desirous  of  writing  to 
you,  but  knew  not  where  to  address  your  letters.  Jim- 


46o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


mie  tells  me  that  you  are  in  Augusta,  and  I  venture  to 
direct  this  letter  there  hoping  that  you  will  receive  it. 
I  need  not  tell  you  how  deeply  I  sympathize  with  you 
in  all  your  recent  troubles.  You  have  indeed  been 
called  upon  to  pass  through  the  fire.  But  yet  I  trust 
you  have  not  been  consumed.  You  have  lost  much,  but 
still  you  have  something  left.  Your  house  has  not  yet 
been  given  to  the  flames,  and  you  have  bread  and 
milk  and  a  little  meat.  Thousands  have  nothing  left. 
It  was  fortunate  for  you  that  you  were  not  at  home, 
or  you  would  have  been  captured,  and  probably  have 
been  now  starving  in  some  Northern  prison.  Thank 
God  you  are  at  least,  up  to  this  date,  free. 

Your  mother,  Sallie,  and  the  little  girls  must  be 
having  a  lonely  time  of  it,  but  God  be  praised,  they 
are  saved  from  personal  violence.  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do  with  your  plantation  this  year?  I  suppose 
you  have  a  few  hands  left,  and  I  understand  you  have 
Andrew  at  home.  I  suppose  you  might  make  a  crop 
with  him,  but  I  can't  help  feeling  some  anxiety  about 
you  and  your  family,  and  my  only  comfort  is  to  trust 
you  all  to  the  gracious  providence  of  a  wise  and  merci- 
ful God.  You  are  in  the  army,  and  I  fear  you  will 
have  some  bloody  fighting  to  do,  and  you  may  prob- 
ably fall.  If  so,  what  arrangement' have  you  made 
about  the  little  girls  ?  I  hope  that  I  am  not  asking 
too  much  in  this  inquiry.  Please  write  me  all  your 
plans  in  perfect  confidence.  I  may  be  able  to  help 
you  or  yours  in  the  future,  and  be  assured  if  I  can  be 
of  any  use  to  you,  you  can  depend  on  me  as  far  as  my 
ability  goes.  I  greatly  desired  to  visit  you  last  sum- 
mer, but  the  state  of  the  country  and  the  heavy  ex- 
penses of  traveling  at  that  time  kept  me  from  travel- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


ing.  But  it  is  my  purpose,  God  willing,  to  make  you 
a  visit  this  coming  spring,  but '  man  proposes  and  God 
disposes.' 

I  hope  that  all  your  losses  and  troubles  have  not 
shaken  your  confidence  in  God,  and  that  you  live  in 
daily  communion  with  him.  Trust  in  him  in  all  things 
and  at  all  times,  and  he  will  make  all  these  troubles 
work  for  your  good.  I  hoped  you  would  send  the 
little  girls  to  us.  We  would  gladly  do  all  in  our  power 
to  make  them  comfortable.  So  far  our  quiet  village 
has  been  kept  in  peace.  How  much  longer  it  may  be 
so  God  only  knows.  I  fear  there  will  be  raids  on  us 
as  the  spring  advances.  It  really  seems  that  it  is 
scarcely  worth  while  to  fly  to  any  place  to  keep  out  of 
the  way  of  the  inevitable  Yankees.  Perhaps  the  chance 
would  be  to  go  where  they  have  previously  been,  on 
this  principle,  if  I  fly  from  Summerfield  I  ^all  go  to 
Newton,  as  they  have  been  there.  Jimmie  came 
home  a  few  weeks  ago,  looking  tolerably  well.  A 
letter  from  Henry  a  few  days  ago  says  he  is  well. 
J.  W.  Rush  remains  at  Suggsville.  Occie  has  pre- 
sented him  with  another  daughter.  All  were  doing 
well  when  he  wrote. 

**  My  own  health  and  Emily's  is  uncommonly  good, 
thank  God.  We  are  trying  to  live  for  a  world  not 
interrupted  by  wars.  There  is  much  talk  about  peace 
and  peace  commissioners,  but  I  have  not  much  faith 
in  results,  though  God,  I  trust,  will  manage  the  mat- 
ter for  the  ultimate  good.  In  Him  is  all  my  trust. 
Emily  writes  in  affectionate  remembrances  to  you. 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  Thomas,  and  guide  and  keep 
and  save  you." 

The  end  was  drawing  near.    The  wonderful  cam- 


462 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


paign  of  the  Federal  army  in  the  early  part  of  1865 
placed  Federal  soldiers  almost  everywhere. 

They  reached  Selma,  and  Summerfield  was  only 
eight  miles  away.  There  was  a  fear  lest  the  Bishop's 
position  would  render  him  particularly  obnoxious  to 
the  army,  and,  while  he  had  no  fear  himself,  in  order 
to  gratify  his  wife,  he  changed  his  place  of  abode  and 
went  to  a  good  local  preacher  not  far  away.  Here  he 
stayed  for  a  few  days  and  then  returned  home  to  re- 
main unmolested. 

During  all  these  stormy  years  he  resided  in  Sum- 
merfield. There  was  a  delightful  circle  of  Christian 
friends,  Colonel  Baker,  Dr,  Mitchell,  who  had  all  his 
lifetime  been  so  dear  to  him,  and  now  Dr.  Rivers, 
whom  he  had  ordained  when  he  was  a  young  Bishop. 
Dr.  Rivers  says  : 

BishSp  Andrew  ordained  me  as  an  Elder  in  the 
Church  of  God.  He  baptized  my  children.  He  was 
always  and  ever  a  favorite  of  mine,  but  it  was  not 
until  the  year  1861  that  I  became  intimately  associated 
with  him.  Suffering  greatly  from  a  fractured  limb, 
and  unable  to  do  efficient  work  as  a  pastor,  I  had 
taken  charge  of  the  Centenary  College  at  Summer- 
field,  the  village  in  which  the  Bishop  resided.  I  was 
on  crutches.  The  Bishop  was  often  at  the  college. 
He  was  always  welcome,  for  he  was  a  true  friend,  a 
wise  counselor,  and  a  sympathizing  brother.  Our 
oldest  daughter  used  to  sing  very  sweetly,  and  her 
hymns  were  a  source  of  great  pleasure  to  the  Bishop. 
He  would  often  sit  while  she  would  sing  '  Eternal 
Home.'  The  big  tears  would  roll  down  his  cheeks 
and  he  would  exhibit  the  deepest  emotion. 

Whenever  he  went  off  on  his  preaching  excursions 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


463 


to  Conference  his  return  was  watched  for  with  great 
eagerness.  The  night  after  his  return  he  was  sure  to  be 
greeted  with  a  serenade  from  some  pious  and  cultivated 
ladies.  These  serenades  were  often  closed  with  the 
beautiful  anthem  'Our  Pastor,'  which  they  changed 
to  *  Our  Bishop.'  His  good  wife  used  to  say  that  the 
Bishop  was  often  made  very  happy  under  these  songs. 
The  Bishop  was  a  faithful  attendant  at  our  prayer- 
meetings  and  enjoyed  them  greatly.  During  the  last 
year  of  the  war  we  had  prayer-meetings  every  after- 
noon, and  we  always  felt  sure  of  the  Bishop's  presence 
if  he  were  at  home.  We  were  very  much  like  one 
family  in  Summerfield,  and  with  the  simplicity  of  a 
child  he  would  often  say,  *  Now,  Sallie,  sing  Eternal 
Home."  '  This  was  a  call  on  our  oldest  daughter, 
to  which  she  always  responded,  much  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  dear  old  Bishop." 

At  last  the  end  came.  The  Confederate  armies  sur- 
rendered. His  children  returned  home  ;  they  had  all 
been  spared.  The  negroes  were  free ;  the  country 
was  devastated  ;  there  was  no  money  ;  the  church 
machinery  was  all  deranged  ;  there  were  wild  conjec- 
tures as  to  the  future,  and  especially  the  future  of  the 
Southern  Church.  More  than  one  heart  sank  into  de- 
spair of  the  country,  and  more  than  one  prominent  in 
church  circles  gave  up  all  hope  of  Southern  Method- 
ism, but  the  brave  old  Bishop  held  on  his  way.  He 
saw  God  in  all.  His  religion  was  left ;  he  was  a  little 
nearer  Heaven  than  he  had  been  before  the  war  be- 
gan, that  was  enough. 

All  mail  communication  was  suspended.  Railways 
were  torn  up,  and  there  was  no  money  to  repair  them. 
Episcopal  visitation  seemed  almost  impossible. 


464 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


I 


The  Trans-Mississippi  had  not  had  any  Episcopal 
supervision  for  years.  Some  one  must  go,  and  al- 
though he  was  old  and  feeble,  and  moneyless,  he  con- 
sented to  make  the  journey.  How  he  made  it  Brother 
Rush  tells. 

He  reached  the  seat  of  the  Texas  Conference  and 
presided  over  it  and  over  the  East  Texas.  During  his 
visit  to  the  Texas  Conference,  of  the  amount  raised  for 
superannuated  preachers,  widows,  etc.,  the  Conference 
proposed  to  appropriate  one  hundred  dollars  to  Bishop 
Andrew  ;  he  refused  to.  receive  it.  Penniless  as  he 
was,  he  would  not  take  a  penny  of  that  fund,  but  the 
brave  Texans  were  not  wilHng  to  allow  him  to  go  out 
empty  handed,  and  raised  a  handsome  purse  for  him, 
which  he  did  receive  without  hesitation.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  reach  the  Rio  Grande  Conference,  but 
made  his  way  to  Summerfield  again. 

During  the  winter  he  received  a  letter  from  W.  T. 
Smithson,  inviting  him  to  meet  him  in  Baltimore, 
where  he  was  doing  business  as  a  banker.  Bishop 
Andrew  was  always  fond  of  Baltimore ;  he  had  a 
strong  hold  on  the  hearts  of  the  Baltimore  preachers. 
His  affection  had  not  abated  for  his  old  friends.  There 
were  some  of  the  preachers  in  1844  who  had  been  true 
to  him  in  the  issue  then,  and  he  had  never  lost  his 
place  in  the  hearts  of  many  of  the  laymen.  The  action 
of  the  General  Conference  of  i860,  in  introducing  the 
new  chapter,  had  driven  off  quite  a  number  of  moder- 
ate conservative  middle  men,  as  well  as  those  whose 
sympathies  were  more  ardently  Southern.  These  were 
now  in  independent  congregations,  and  he  was  most 
kindly  welcomed  by  them  all. 

The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  had  very  kindly 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


465 


paid  some  large  drafts  for  the  Church  South  in  favor 
of  the  China  Mission,  and  these  drafts  were  still  un- 
provided for.  It  was  needful  that  Bishop  Andrew 
should  have  an  interview  with  Dr.  Carlton,  Treasurer 
of  the  Missionary  Society.  The  doctor  came  on  to 
Baltimore,  and  the  interview  was  full,  free,  and  affec- 
tionate. Dr.  Carlton  was  one  of  the  most  moderate 
of  men,  and  was  very  anxious  for  a  reunion,  immedi- 
ate and  complete,  of  the  two  churches.  He  expressed 
himself  very  generously,  and  Bishop  Andrew  seems, 
from  a  letter  from  Dr.  Whedon  to  the  Bishop,  to 
have  led  him  to  believe  that  he  was  not  averse  to  such 
a  result.  Perhaps  this  was  true.  Perhaps,  however, 
Dr.  Carlton  mistook  the  earnest  desire  of  Bishop  An- 
drew for  fraternity  for  a  desire  for  an  organic  union. 
It  is  certain  Dr.  Whedon  wrote  a  long,  full  letter  to 
the  Bishop,  suggesting  a  way  by  which  it  could  be 
brought  about.  The  letter  is  courteous  and  even 
affectionate.  After  a  delightful  visit  to  the  East  he 
returned  home  by  the  middle  of  March. 

The  General  Conference,  after  eight  years  of  inter- 
mission, was  to  meet  in  New  Orleans  in  April.  There 
was  great  perplexity  as  to  what  was  best  to  be  done. 
The  missionary  treasury  was  empty,  and  a  large  debt 
hung  over  it.  The  property  of  the  publishing  house 
could  not  have  been  sold  for  the  amount  of  its  liabili- 
ties. The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  with  a  large 
body  of  its  most  gifted  men,  and  with  not  a  few  who 
had  gone  from  the  ranks  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  South,  was  seeking  to  disintegrate  and  absorb 
the  Southern  Church.  The  colored  people  had  gone 
away  from  the  Church  almost  en  masse,  some  to  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  and  some  to  the  two 
20* 


466 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


African  Churches.  The  regular  class-meeting  had 
been  suspended  by  the  absence  of  the  teachers,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  little  hope  of  re-establishing  it. 
There  was  in  the  ministry  almost  an  insane  demand 
for  changes  in  economy.  Men  seemed  to  think  the 
remedy  for  present  ills  or  future  dangers  was  to  be 
found  in  the  church. 

The  laymen  were  to  be  brought  in.  The  pastoral 
term  extended  indefinitely.  The  name  of  the  church 
changed,  class-meeting  was  not  longer  to  be  obliga- 
tory, Mr.  Wesley's  Sunday  service  was  to  be  brought 
into  general  use,  etc.  The  Conference  met  in  April. 
The  Bishop  wrote  the  address — the  last  he  ever  wrote. 
He  and  his  colleague  recognized  the  need  of  change 
in  some  tlWngs,  but  they  recommended  great  caution 
and  urged  the  delegates  to  do  all  they  did  in  love, 
and  give  all  due  credit  to  those  who  differed  with 
them.  During  the  session  he  rose  before  his  brethren 
and  asked  them  to  give  him  a  retired  relation,  and  to 
assign  no  regular  work.  He  felt  he  was  not  able  to 
do  it  efficiently,  and  he  would  attempt  it  no  longer. 
No  one  had  breathed  the  wish  that  he  should  retire. 
No  one  had  expressed  the  slightest  distrust.  It  was 
of  his  own  will.  The  grandeur  of  his  service  was  now 
fitly  crowned  by  the  grandeur  with  which  he  laid 
down  his  office.  Perhaps  the  saddest  sight  in  the 
world  is  a  grand  old  man  who  has  lived  too  long  ; 
who  cannot  do  the  work  he  wishes  to  do,  and  who 
will  not,  does  not,  know  it.  Perhaps  one  of  the  most 
offensive  sights  in  the  world  is  to  see  the  disposition 
of  selfish  young  men  to  elbow  the  man  with  gray 
head,  feeble  in  body  but  still  strong  in  mind,  from  the 
work  he  still  does  well ;  and  perhaps  the  most  un- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


467 


grateful  and  despicable  thing  in  the  world,  is  for  a 
church  that  is  established,  built  up,  made  all  that  it  is 
by  the  labors  of  the  now  old  men,  to  be  unwilling  to 
have  their  services,  and  to  eject  them  from  the  pul- 
pits, that  they  may  place  young  and  more  attractive, 
though  by  no  means  more  useful,  men  in  them ;  but 
one  of  the  grandest  sights  in  the  world  was  one  like 
that  seen  in  New  Orleans  in  1866,  and  continued  for 
five  years  afterward.  A  voluntary  surrender  of  his 
place  as  leader,  and  a  cheerful,  patient,  gentle,  untir- 
ing service  anywhere  as  God  should  give  him  strength 
to  labor. 

What  a  half  century  for  retrospect !  The  boy,  un- 
lettered, timid,  home-loving,  going  out  at  God's  com- 
mand, he  knew  not  whither,  with  only  a  father's  bless- 
ing and  a  mother's  prayer.  The  struggle  onward  for 
these  fifty-three  years  through  all  the  gradations  from 
the  lowliest  place  to  the  highest  one.  He  had  endured 
much  and  suffered  much  ;  and  now,  at  the  end,  his 
escutcheon  had  not  a  blot  upon  it. 

He  was  near  the  end  and  there  was  nothing  in  the 
past  to  deplore,  nor  in  the  future  to  fear.  His  life  for 
nearly  seventy  years  had  been  hid  with  Christ  in  God, 
and  for  nearly  sixty  consecrated  to  God's  service  in  the 
ministry.  He  could  now  well  rest  under  the  fig-trees,  an 
Israelite  indeed  in  whom  there  was  no  guile.  At  this 
General  Conference  W.  M.  Wightman,  David  S.  Dog- 
gett,  Enoch  M.  Marvin,  H.  N.  McTyiere,  were  elected 
bishops. 

These  new  colleagues  were  all  gladly  welcomed  by 
him  and  inducted  into  the  place  he  was  about  to  va- 
cate. The  father  of  Bishop  McTyiere  had  lived  in  the 
boundary  of  his  first  circuit,  and  he  had  presided  at 


468 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


the  Conference  in  which  the  son  was  admitted  to  the 
traveling  connection.  Bishop  Marvin  he  had  first  met, 
a  gifted  but  uncultivated  boy,  in  the  west  of  Missouri, 
and  for  him  an  attachment  was  formed  which  grew 
with  every  succeeding  year.  But  toward  none  of 
them  was  the  relation  so  tender  as  it  had  been  toward 
W.  M.  Wightman.  When  he  was  a  little  child  he  was 
his  mother's  pastor  ;  when  he  was  a  bright,  thought- 
ful schoolboy,  he  had  him  in  his  charge,  and  at  a 
camp-meeting  near  Charleston  he  had  received  him 
into  the  Church. 

From  those  days  till  now  he  had  marked  his  steady 
progress,  and  with  a  glad  eye  seen  how  his  boy  had 
moved  to  the  front.  As  a  circuit  preacher,  a  preacher 
on  a  station,  a  presiding  elder,  an  editor,  a  professor, 
a  college  president,  the  chancellor  of  a  university,  he 
had  filled  his  station  well,  and  now  he  was  elected 
to  the  highest  office  the  Church  could  give.  The  old 
Bishop  walked  down  the  aisle  of  the  church,  and  draw- 
ing near  him  silently  threw  his  arms  around  him  and 
pressed  him  to  his  heart.  Bishop  Wightman  said  few 
things  in  his  life  ever  touched  him  so  deeply  as  this 
embace  of  the  dear  old  Bishop. 

He  preached  a  memorial  sermon  of  his  old  friend, 
and  says  of  this  scene  : 

"At  the  General  Conference  of  1866,  in  New  Or- 
leans, being  senior  Bishop  by  the  death  of  Joshua 
Soule,  he  presented  the  address  of  the  bishops,  but 
was  too  feeble  to  discharge  the  duties  of  a  presiding 
officer.  Before  the  adjournment,  in  a  brief  address 
replete  with  profound  and  affectionate  feeling,  he  re- 
quested to  be  relieved  of  the  accive  duties  of  his  office 
and  placed  on  the  retired  list.    This  was  accordingly 


Jafncs  Osgood  Aiidrew. 


469 


done,  and  the  following  resolutions  were  adopted  by 
a  unanimous  rising  vote  : 

"  *  *  Resolved y  That  the  General  Conference  has  heard 
with  profound  emotion,  the  request  made  by  our 
honored  and  beloved  friend,  Bishop  Andrew,  that  he 
be  allowed,  on  account  of  advanced  years  and  grow- 
ing infirmities,  to  retire  from  the  responsibilities  con- 
nected with  an  active  participation  in  the  Episcopal" 
administration.  While  the  General  Conference  cannot 
be  indifferent  to  the  important  considerations,  and 
cannot  but  approve  of  the  high  and  deHcate  motives 
which  prompt  this  course,  at  the  same  time  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Annual  Conferences  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  South  cannot  allow  the  occasion 
to  pass  without  expressing,  as  they  now  take  pleasure 
in  doing,  the  respect  and  affection  universally  felt  for 
the  venerable  Bishop  ;  the  honor  in  which  his  past 
services  are  held,  and  the  lustre  which  his  spotless 
character  has  shed  on  Southern  Methodism.  They 
devoutly  pray  that  the  evening  of  his  life  may  be 
serene — full  of  the  consolations  of  that  gospel  he  has 
preached  for  more  than  a  half  century — bright  with 
the  unspeakable  hope  of  eternal  life  through  Jesus 
Christ. 

"  '  Resolved  y  ftcrt  her  more,  That  Bishop  Andrew  be, 
and  he  is  hereby  released,  according  to  his  request, 
from  active  participation  in  the  responsibilities  of  the 
Episcopal  office.  At  the  same  time  the  General  Con- 
ference beg  that  he  will,  as  far  as  his  health  and  cir- 
cumstances allow,  give  to  his  colleagues  and  the 
Church  at  large  the  benefits  of  his  experience  and 
counsels  and  highly  appreciated  visits  to  the  Annual 
Conferences.' 


470 


The  Life  a7id  Letters  of 


One  can  but  faintly  imagine  the  swell  of  feeling  in 
the  soul  of  this  good  and  great  man,  on  an  occasion 
which,  with  so  much  moral  grandeur,  closed  the 
active  labors  of  a  long  public  life.  Through  more 
than  fifty  years  he  had  '  served  his  generation  by  the 
will  of  God  ; '  and  now,  without  slip  or  stumble,  he 
was  approaching  the  goal  and  coming  near  the  end 
of  the  course.  The  pronounced  '  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant,'  which  carried  to  his  heart  the 
assurance  of  the  affectionate  respect  of  the  assembled 
representatives  of  the  largest  Christian  j:ommunion 
of  the  South — might  it  not  awaken  the  anticipation — 
ah  !  how  entrancing — of  that  other  *  Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant,*  to  be  spoken  ere  long  by  the 
lips  of  the  glorified  Saviour,  to  whose  service  he  had 
given  his  whole  heart  and  life,  without  stint,  from 
boyhood  ?  " 

He  remained  at  New  Orleans  till  the  close  of  the 
Conference,  and  returned  home  to  Summerfield.  He 
needed  rest,  and  gladly  entered  into  it.  He  had  acted 
wisely.  During  the  summer  he  visited  his  grand- 
children in  Newton,  and  writes  Rush  in  September : 

**  Summerfield,  July  3,  i866. 

'^Dear  Wesley  : 

"  I  received  your  welcome  letter  some  time  ago, 
and  should  have  replied  before  now,  but  was  in  bad 
health  for  the  first  four  or  five  weeks  after  my  return. 
I  have  only  attempted  to  preach  once  or  twice  since 
my  return  home,  though  thanks  be  to  God  I  am  now 
better,  and  begin  to  feel  like  myself  again.  I  bore 
my  trip  through  Texas  and  Louisiana  much  better 
than  I  feared.  Kept  up  pretty  cleverly  until  I  reached 


James  Osgood  Andreiv.  471 


home,  when  I  immediately  collapsed  and  lost  all 
strength,  and,  without  being  very  ill,  was  of  no  ac- 
count, and  lay  about  the  house  fit  only  to  be  nursed. 
Well,  God  was  very  gracious  to  me  in  that  I  was  not 
stricken  while  among  strangers,  but  was  permitted  to 
reach  my  quiet  home  to  receive  the  attention  of  my 
excellent  wife.  We  are  now  all  up.  I  have  said 
enough  to  excuse  my  not  meeting  you  or  writing  to 
you.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  visit  your  work  after  the 
General  Conference,  God  willing.  Well,  how  are  you 
all?  I  should  greatly  rejoice  to  hear  from  some  of 
you.  Do  write  to  me  soon.  You  must  be  sure  to 
bring  Occie  up  to  see  us  when  the  summer  comes,  or 
sooner  if  possible.  I  hope  you  are  all  well  and  pretty 
comfortably  fixed  in  your  Suggsville  home,  and  that 
the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  is  prospering  in  your  heart. 
Oh  !  that  he  may  pour  out  the  Holy  Spirit  in  abundant 
showers  on  you  and  your  people.  We  have  had  for 
some  ten  days  past  a  comfortable  state  of  feeling  in 
the  Church.  Within  the  last  week  perhaps  some 
twenty  conversions.  Oh  !  that  the  work  may  go  on 
and  increase  in  interest.  The  small-pox  is  raging 
fearfully  in  Selma  and  its  vicinity,  and  we  are  under 
considerable  apprehension  here,  though  as  yet  none 
of  our  citizens  have  died,  though  some  two  or  three 
straggling  negroes  have  died  within  the  limits  of  the 
town.  Alas  !  what  will  become  of  the  poor  negroes 
with  no  homes  and  no  one  to  care  for  them  ?  " 
Dr.  Rivers  says  : 

I  must  narrate  one  more  incident  of  this  best  of 
men.  I  was  compelled  by  solemn  duty,  which  I  owed 
an  aged  mother,  to  leave  Summerfield  at  the  close  of 
the  war. 


472 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


I  spent  the  last  night  in  the  hospitable  village  in 
the  family  of  Colonel  Thomas  Baker.  He  was  a  close 
neighbor  of  Bishop  Andrew.  In  the  evening  I  went 
over  to  bid  a  sad  adieu  to  my  venerable  friend.  He 
said,  '  I  will  see  you  in  the  morning.'  I  told  him  I 
had  to  leave  at  3  A.M.,  in  order  to  meet  the  train  at 
Selma  on  the  next  morning.  About  fifteen  minutes 
before  three  o'clock  the  Bishop  came  over  to  hold 
prayer  with  us.  Oh,  that  prayer  !  It  was  the  last  I 
ever  heard  from  his  hallowed  lips.  He  had  left  his 
own  warm  bed  and  comfortable  room  to  bid  us  all 
good-by,  to  bestow  upon  us  his  blessing,  and  to  offer  to 
the  Father  one  more  prayer  for  me  and  mine.  It  was 
the  most  touching  evidence  of  affection  that  I  had  ever 
received,  even  from  him.  I  can  never  forget  that 
prayer,  offered  by  one  that  was  nearer  to  the  blessed 
Master  than  any  one  I  ever  knew." 

Mr.  Rush,  who  knew  much  of  his  last  days,  gives 
an  account  of  them,  which  we  have  been  compelled 
somewhat  to  anticipate,  but  which  the  reader  has  in 
full. 

The  spirit  of  the  politics  that  marked  the  closing 
months  of  i860  and  the  opening  months  of  1861 
deeply  distressed  this  good  man's  heart.  He  had  ac- 
cepted as  true  Mr.  Webster's  views  of  the  Constitu- 
tion and  powers  of  the  United  States  Government, 
and  hence  believed  that,  except  as  a  last  resort,  seces- 
sion was  not  the  way  for  one  State  or  many  to  seek 
redress  from  wrongs,  real  or  imaginary,  which  grew 
out  of  their  relations  to  the  general  Government  or  to 
the  other  States.  He  feared  that  secession  would  in- 
evitably bring  war,  and  war  was  deprecated  as  the 
greatest  calamity  that  could  befall  the  country  or 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  473 

• 

either  section  of  it.  The  prospect  of  a  deluge  of 
blood,  of  widowhood,  of  orphanage,  and  of  the  de- 
moralization that  comes  from  such  a  state  of  things, 
grieved  him  beyond  expression.  And  besides,  what 
would  become  of  the  Church  amid  such  scenes  of 
strife  and  bitterness  ?  Would  the  preachers  forget 
their  high  vocation  ?  Would  the  Church,  as  such, 
take  up  the  sword  ?  Would  the  gospel  by  any  means 
be  made  of  more  effect  ? 

In  December,  i860,  he  presided  over  the  Alabama 
Conference  in  Montgomery,  Bishop  Soule  also  being 
present.  The  politicians,  wishing  to  mould  and  fix 
public  sentiment,  sought  the  aid  of  the  Conference, 
entreating  some  of  the  leading  members  to  have  reso- 
lutions on  the  state  of  the  country  passed  which  would 
cover  their  points.  The  fact  was  communicated  to  the 
two  bishops,  who,  after  a  short  consultation,  planted 
themselves  firmly,  side  by  side,  on  the  clear  open 
ground  of  a  non-political  church,  and  determined, 
should  the  resolutions  be  introduced,  to  rule  them  out 
of  order  and  refuse  to  let  them  come  to  a  vote. 

*'  When  the  State,  however,  did  secede,  like  all  true 
men  of  his  political  convictions  he  acquiesced  in  the 
action,  and  without  hesitation  gave  allegiance  to  the 
newly  formed  government.  When  hostilities  began, 
in  sermons,  in  newspaper  articles,  and  in  private  con- 
versations he  did  what  he  could  to  cheer  and  comfort 
the  people  at  home ;  encouraged  preachers  to  go  as 
missionaries  to  the  army,  and  visited  in  person  the 
soldiers  in  camps,  preaching  to  them  as  opportunity 
was  given.  And  when  the  struggle  finally  closed,  al- 
though the  termination  brought  sorrow  and  mourning 
to  his  soul  for  the  loss  of  the  cause,  and  he  clearly  saw 


474  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

that  it  also  brought  new  and  grave  and  perplexing 
problems  of  government  and  society  and  industry  to 
the  South,  with  which  the  people  were  poorly  pre- 
pared to  grapple,  yet  the  fact  that  the  dreadful  car- 
nage had  ceased,  and  the  horrible  carnival  of  death 
had  ended,  brought  positive  rcHef  to  his  suffering  mind. 
During  this  period  in  1862  and  1863  he  lived  on  a 
plantation  he  had  bought  eight  miles  west  of  Selma. 
This  place  was  called  *  Tranquilla.'  Like  almost  every 
other  man  he  thought  he  could  make  a  living  by  farm- 
ing, and  went  there  for  this  purpose.  But  a  poorer 
farmer  never  put  foot  in  a  field.  The  mental  consti- 
tution and  moral  principles  of  the  negro  require  a  kind 
of  authority  in  the  management  of  such  business 
which  it  was  simply  impossible  for  Bishop  Andrew  to 
exert.  It  is  told  in  his  family  that  once  he  did  slap 
the  jaws  of  a  dining-room  boy  about  sixteen  years  old, 
and  that  when  the  boy  told  the  other  servants  about 
it  they  could  not  believe  a  story  so  strange  ;  and  that 
on  another  occasion  he  made  another  sixteen-year-old 
fellow  stand  on  a  stump  in  the  yard,  so  that  the  rest 
of  the  negroes  could  see  and  laugh  at  him.  These  two 
cases  make  the  sum  total  of  his  harsh  discipline  over 
servants.  It  soon  appeared  to  Colonel  Woolsey,  Mrs. 
Andrew's  son,  who  lived  near  by,  that  things  would 
be  ruined  if  the  Bishop  did  not  go  back  to  Summer- 
field — which  he  very  cheerfully  did,  turning  the  man- 
agement over  to  the  Colonel.  It  was  while  Hving  at 
Tranquilla  that  he  fell,  for  the  first  time,  by  a  stroke 
of  vertigo  (or  it  may  have  been  a  slight  attack  of  par- 
alysis), which  followed  him  thenceforward  to  the  end 
of  life. 

I  have  heard  him  say  more  than  once  that  up  to 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  475 


the  time  of  his  holding  his  first  round  of  Annual  Con- 
ferences, excepting  occasional  spells  of  sickness,  he 
had  been  a  perfectly  healthy  man  ;  could  endure  any 
reasonable  amount  of  exposure  without  harm,  work 
as  he  pleased,  eat  what  he  liked,  and  sleep  all  night 
without  waking.  But  that  after  the  close  of  that  first 
round  he  had  never  passed  a  night  of  uninterrupted 
sleep,  nor  seldom  gone  more  than  a  fortnight  in  un- 
interrupted health.  "The  trouble  this  care  brought 
upon  him  was  of  the  bowels.  It  became  chronic,  and 
for  more  than  thirty-five  years  he  was  never  without 
a  Supply  of  astringent  medicines.  It  often  enfeebled, 
sometimes  prostrated  him,  especially  after  a  Confer- 
ence. But  by  rest  and  quiet  and  the  use  of  remedies 
he  soon  regained  himself  and  rapidly  became  robust. 
At  this  period  of  life  his  health  was  constantly  alter- 
nating between  robustness  and  feebleness.  The  time 
of  greatest  danger  was  the  time  of  greatest  apparent 
strength,  on  account  of  the  greater  liability  to  vertigo. 
The  uncomplaining,  unselfish  manner  in  which  he 
spoke  of  his  health,  when  allusion  was  made  to  it  at 
all,  prevented  the  appreciation  of  his  real  condition  by 
any  but  his  family  and  his  physician. 

**  Approving  the  old  English  rule  by  which  a  judge 
over  seventy  years  of  age  was  forbidden  to  preside  in 
the  trial  of  causes,  and  believing  that  the  duties  of  a 
Methodist  Bishop  involved  interests  as  grave  and  as 
delicate  as  those  of  any  civil  office,  requiring  for  their 
proper  management  a  head  as  calm  and  clear  as  that 
of  the  very  wisest  judge,  he  firmly  held  that  as  a 
general  thing  it  would  be  well  for  the  church  to  adopt 
this  rule  with  reference  to  its  chief  ofificers.  At  any 
rate,  he  was  perfectly  persuaded  that  the  rule  should 


47^  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


apply  to  his  own  case.  The  inveterate  old  trouble, 
the  new  phase  of  vertigo,  and  the  decided  decline  of 
the  general  vital  forces  experienced  about  this  time, 
left  no  doubt  upon  his  own  mind.  These  were  his 
reasons,  his  only  reasons,  for  deciding  to  ask  the  next 
General  Conference  to  grant  him  a  superannuated 
relation.  His  zeal  for  God  was  as  glowing  as  in  the 
days  of  his  youth.  His  love  of  the  work  was  as  ardent 
as  w^hen  he  was  in  the  zenith  of  his  pulpit  fame.  But 
he  conscientiously  believed  that  the  good  of  the  church 
demanded  his  discharge  from  the  responsibilities  of 
the  episcopal  office,  and  he  knew  there  were  men  who 
could  bear  the  burdens  and  discharge  the  duties  of 
that  high  office  far  better  than  himself  at  his  age  and 
with  his  infirmities. 

"  In  1865  an  incident  occurred  that  well  illustrates 
some  features  of  his  character  as  a  bishop  and  a 
Christian.  It  was  a  trip  to  Texas — the  preparation 
for  it,  and  its  results.  The  prominent  men  of  the 
Conferences  had  written  the  Bishops  that  the  agents  of 
the  Northern  Church  had  come  down  to  disintegrate 
and  absorb  their  members,  and  that  some  few  of  their 
own  preachers  were  disposed  to  complain  of  what  ap- 
peared to  them  to  be  episcopal  neglect,  and  that  an 
episcopal  visitation  was  highly  important.  The  lot 
fell  on  Bishop  Andrew.  The  whole  journey  had  to 
be  made  by  public  conveyance,  with  rates  of  travel 
very  high.  But  the  Bishop  had  not  a  dollar,  and  no 
way  to  make  one.  Yet  he  decided  to  go  ;  had  his 
trunk  packed,  and,  as  was  his  custom  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, prayed  to  the  Lord  for  the  money  and 
waited  for  the  answer.  But  the  Lord  did  not  send  the 
money  as  he  had  always  done  in  such  emergencies. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


477 


Things  stood  thus  for  more  than  a  week,  until  his 
wife,  who  herself  was  a  woman  of  great  faith,  began 
to  think  the  state  of  his  mind  was  one  of  presumption 
and  not  of  faith.  She  wanted  to  unpack  the  trunk ; 
but  no,  he  would  not  permit  it.  Things  standing  this 
way  a  few  days  longer,  he  decided  to  start  without  the 
money.  So  to  Selma  he  went  with  his  trunk  all 
packed  and  his  pocket-book  empty.  He  had  been  in 
the  city  but  a  short  time  before  a  steamboat  captain 
invited  him  to  take  a  trip  to  Mobile.  In  Mobile 
another  captain  invited  him  to  ride  over  to  New 
Orleans,  and  when  in  that  city  a  friend  paid  his  fare 
up  Red  River.  Thus  the  destination  was  reached  by 
the  unsolicited  aid  of  men  who  knew  nothing  of  his 
poverty  or  his  plans.  Friends  in  Texas  showed  their 
appreciation  of  the  visit  by  presenting  him  with  a  sum 
sufficient  to  pay  his  way  home  and  leave  him  quite  a 
handsome  surplus. 

*'  From  the  beginning  to  the  close  of  his  ministry, 
life  was  marked  by  many  such  instances  of  honored 
faith  and  obedience. 

*•  The  General  Conference  of  1866,  at  New  Orleans, 
granted  the  superannuated  relation,  but  notwithstand- 
ing he  had  asked  the  relation  purely  of  his  own 
notion,  after  long  and  prayerful  deliberation,  and 
knew  perfectly  well  what  it  would  be  in  all  its  out- 
ward, visible  aspects,  still  it  was  a  very  great  afflic- 
tion when  he  returned  home  and  realized  that  he  was 
in  actual  retirement.  It  was  not  that  the  Conference 
had  assessed  an  insufficient  support,  for  the  allowance 
was  perfectly  satisfactory.  Neither  was  it  the  loss  of 
authority  and  control,  for  while  he  never  shrank  from 
the  responsibilities  of  his  office,  yet  he  never  did  love 


478 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  exercise  power  over  others,  and  from  the  very  first 
this  power  had  been  a  mental  burden  and  a  bodily 
distress.  Nor  was  it  that  the  new  bishops  would 
henceforth  receive  more  of  the  applause  and  attention 
of  the  public  than  himself,  for  no  man  was  freer  from 
such  jealousy.  For  more  than  thirty  years  had  cir- 
cumstances beyond  his  control  fixed  upon  him  the 
steady,  scrutinizing  gaze  of  the  American  churches,  and 
if  his  heart  had  ever  taken  delight  in  the  praise  of  men, 
it  had  long  ago  been  sated  even  to  nausea.  Further- 
more, he  was  greatly  delighted  with  the  election  of  the 
new  bishops,  and  no  man  looked  forward  with  more 
hope  to  their  administration,  or  expected  from  it 
greater  and  better  results.  But  he  did  grieve,  deeply 
grieve,  with  that  unselfish  feeling  which  subdues  the 
heart  of  every  true  and  faithful  soldier,  who,  worn  out 
in  the  service,  at  last  comes  to  the  painful  conscious- 
ness that  he  can  no  longer  respond  to  the  bugle's 
battle-call. 

In  the  summer  of  1866  I  found  him  in  his  study 
one  morning  weeping,  and  inquired  the  cause.  He 
replied  that  in  glancing  over  one  of  the  Advocates  he 
had  noticed  the  absence  of  his  own  name  from  the 
plan  of  Episcopal  appointments  and  that  this  was  the 
cause  of  his  tears.  That  was  all.  He  was  not  com- 
plaining, but  wept  because  his  work  for  the  Mas- 
ter was  well-nigh  done — he  had,  in  a  measure,  noth- 
ing more  to  do — his  strength  had  failed  at  a  time 
when  the  battle  was  fiercest,  and  when  the  greatest 
prudence  and  skill  in  the  management  was  needed 
most." 

Except  the  letters  I  have  had  of  Bishop  Andrew's, 
which  fell  naturally  in  the  line  of  the  narrative,  I  have 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


479 


preferred  to  defer  the  publication  of  others  to  a 
separate  section  of  this  chapter.  He  wrote  very  ex- 
tensively, but  the  delay  in  preparing  his  biography 
has  forbidden  the  recovery  of  much  of  his  corre- 
spondence. The  letters  to  Bishop  Wightman  and 
Dr.  Duncan  would  have  been  of  very  great  interest, 
but  they  are  both  gone,  and  the  letters  cannot  be 
found.  Bishop  Paine  sends  me  quite  a  number 
of  letters,  and  Mrs.  Cornwell,  the  daughter  of  Bishop 
Soule,  a  few  she  had  recovered  from  her  father's  pa- 
pers. Dr.  Summers  lost  his  in  the  fire,  nor  has 
Bishop  Pierce  been  able  to  recover  any. 


To  Dr.  JAMES  MOOD. 

•*  SuMMERFiELD,  February  7,  1837. 

My  Dear  James  : 

"Your  letter  containing  the  expected  but  melan- 
choly intelligence  of  the  death  of  your  beloved  mother 
has  just  been  received.  I  need  not  tell  you  how  deeply 
I  sympathize  with  you  all,  but  more  especially  with 
your  beloved  father.  To  you  all  it  is  a  heavy  stroke, 
but  none  can  feel  it  as  he  does.  To  be  thus  bereft  of 
one  who  has  been  his  faithful  partner  and  aided  him 
in  battling  with  the  thorns  of  life,  is  the  heaviest 
earthly  calamity  that  could  have  befallen  him.  I  know 
how  to  feel  for  him,  having  had  a  deep  and  bitter  ex- 
perience myself.  But  then  our  departed  friends  have 
passed  from  life's  battle-field  to  the  home  of  God. 
No  woman  has  more  faithfully  sustained  life's  re- 
sponsibilities as  did  your  mother,  and  God  has  abun- 
dantly crowned  her  with  the  honor  that  cometh  from 
God 


48o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


"  Billy  requests  me  to  write  an  obituary,  which  I 
will  cheerfully  attempt.  Will  you  tell  me  at  what 
time  she  embraced  religion  and  connected  herself  with 
the  church,  also  as  many  particulars  as  you  can  re- 
member of  her  experience  in  her  last  illness  ? 

We  are  all,  thank  God,  pretty  well.  Octavia  is 
with  us  and  together  send  their  love  and  the  kind- 
est expressions  of  sympathy  to  you  all.  May  God 
bless  and  comfort  you  all  in  this  season  of  bereave- 
ment." 

To  GEORGE  G.  SMITH,  Jr. 

"  SuMMERFiELD,  Ala.,  September  i6,  1856. 

Dear  George  : 

I  received  your  letter  a  few  days  since,  and  was 
glad  to  hear  from  you,  and  especially  to  hear  that 
you  intended  to  enter  the  ministry.  I  am  glad  you 
have  not  imitated  Jonah.  God,  I  doubt  not,  will  make 
you  useful  if  you  are  faithful  to  the  grace  given.  Look 
well  to  your  own  personal  experience  of  the  things  of 
God  ;  keep  the  vital  flame  alive  in  your  own  heart, 
then  you  will  be  able  to  win  others  to  Christ.  As  to 
the  question  you  propound,  I  should  say  as  soon  as 
you  are  free  from  debt  enter  the  work  at  once.  You  are 
prepared  by  your  early  training  to  study  to  advan- 
tage, and,  if  industrious  on  your  circuit,  you  will  very 
soon  know  all  you  could  have  learned  in  college  ;  be- 
sides, if  you  go  to  college,  an  increase  of  embarrass- 
ment and  debt  may  be  the  result — besides,  life  is  short, 
death  at  the  door,  therefore  let  us  work  while  it  is 
day.  May  God  direct  you  in  all  things,  and  bless  you 
abundantly,  is  the  prayer  of 

Yours  very  affectionately." 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  481 


To  BISHOP  PAINE. 

"  Oxford,  Ga.,  April  24,  1847. 

**My  Dear  Bishop  : 

I  trust  you  are  safe  at  home  again  after  your 
rough  ride  through  Texas,  and  that  you  found  all  at 
home  well  and  happy.  I  have  a  few  things  which  I 
wish  to  talk  about,  and  upon  which  I  wish  you  to 
think,  and  give  me  fully  and  freely  your  thoughts. 
First,  the  China  mission.  You  know  the  excitement 
in  the  public  mind  on  that  subject  for  some  time 
past,  and  the  frequent  hints  in  our  papers,  designed 
to  quicken  the  tardy  movements  of  the  bishops.  As 
you  will  remember,  there  was  nothing  decisive  done 
at  Petersburg.  The  matter  was  left  by  the  bishops 
without  any  special  direction.  When  I  met  Bishop 
Soule  last  fall,  I  proposed  to  him  to  take  special  charge 
of  that  work,  to  which  he  consented.  But  he  writes 
me  a  few  weeks  since  that  he  has  been  unable  to  find 
a  second  man  to  accompany  Taylor.  That  conse- 
quently he  has  done  nothing,  and  that  on  account  of 
his  growing  infirmities,  he  must  turn  the  whole  mat- 
ter over  to  his  colleagues.  I  have  seen  Bishop  Capers, 
and  he  insists  on  turning  the  whole  matter  over  to 
me.  Now  I  have  no  anxiety  for  this  additional  bur- 
den, still,  in  view  of  the  importance  of  prompt  and 
vigorous  action  in  the  premises,  if  you  concur  in 
opinion  with  Bishop  Capers,  I  will  endeavor  to  at- 
tend to  it,  asking  at  the  same  time  freely  your  views 
in  reference  to  the  matter.  Is  it  better  to  send  Taylor 
at  once,  with  directions  to  examine  the  ground  care- 
fully in  view  of  the  best  site  for  permanent  location 
of  the  mission,  and  then  send  him  the  needed  rein- 
21 


43 is?  The  Life  and.  Letters  of 

forcements  ?  Or  had  we  beet  wait  until  we  can  send 
two  ?  If  you  think  the  latter  proposition  is  the  best, 
can  you  recommend  to-  me  a  suitable  man  ?  Have 
you  considered  the  subject  so  as  to  give  any  opinion 
in  regard  to  the  most  favorable  point  in  that  empire 
for  the  establishment  of  such  a  mission  ?  The^second 
point  about  which  I  wish  you  to  think  and  write  is  the 
propriety  of  a  meeting  of  the  Bishops  at  Louisville 
about  the  middle  of  September  next,  to  consult  to- 
gether upon  matters  affecting  the  interests  of  the 
Southern  Church.  I  write  at  the  suggestion  of  Bishop 
Soule.  Both  the  time  and  place  will  be  very  conven- 
ient for  yourself  and  Bishop  Capers,  though  not  for 
me.  What  say  you  ?  Shall  I  announce  such  a  meet- 
ing ?  My  health  is  not  so  good  as  I  had  hoped  it 
would  be.  I  find  I  have  but  little  strength  for  much 
labor,  and  I  fear  it  will  be  long  before  I  recover  from 
the  effect  of  last  year's  attack.  However,  God  is  wise 
and  good,  and  what  he  does  I  know  is  right." 

To  BISHOP  PAINE. 

SUMMERFIELD,  AlA.,  July  2$,  1860. 

My  Dear  Bishop  : 

Where  are  you  and  what  are  you  doing  ?  I  wrote 
to  you  some  weeks  ago  and  have  been  anxiously 
waiting  an  answer,  but  up  to  this  time  I  have  not 
heard  from  you.  The  same  is  the  case  in  reference 
to  Bishops  Pierce  and  Kavanaugh — not  a  word  from 
any  of  you.  I  wrote  you  that  I  wished  to  send  mis- 
sionaries to  Central  America,  say  one  to  Panama,  two 
to  Bogota  and  its  neighborhood,  and  one  to  Costa 
Rica.    Also,  I  wish  to  send  one  or  two  men  to  ope- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


483 


rate  somewhere  on  the  Tehuantepec  route.  And  I 
wrote  requesting  you  to  afford  me  whatever  help  you 
might  be  able  in  procuring  suitable  men  to  supply 
this  important  field.  Can  you  help  me  ?  I  want  at 
once  to  send  out  at  least  three  men.  But  where  can 
I  get  them  ?  I  dislike  to  call  for  volunteers  through 
the  Church  paper,  but  I  reckon  I  shall  have  to  do  it. 
Do  help  me  if  you  can.  We  are  here  parched  with 
the  drought,  and  gasping  for  weeks  through  a  succes- 
sion of  the  hottest  days  and  nights  which  I  ever  re- 
member to  have  encountered.  The  times  are,  in  some 
respects,  gloomy  enough.  The  corn  crops  are  pretty 
well  burned,  so  that  there  cannot  be,  in  any  event, 
bread  enough  made  in  the  country  ;  and  the  cotton 
crop  is  more  than  half  cut  off,  so  that  there  won't  be  the 
means  wherewith  to  purchase  corn.  This  state  of  affairs 
is  gloomy,  but  the  Lord  reigns  and  all  shall  be  well. 
I  think  that  this  scourge  will,  in  the  end,  be  sanctified 
to  the  spiritual  profit  of  the  people.  We  need  these 
visitations  to  remind  us  that  God  reigns  in  the  heaven 
above  and  in  the  earth  beneath.  For  in  our  pros- 
perity, if  it  be  long  continued,  we  are  apt  to  forget 
God  and  kick  rebelliously  against  His  government. 
Oh!  that  the  people  may  learn  righteousness* while 
God's  judgments  are  abroad  in  the  earth." 

"Newton,  Ga,,  August  28,  i86o. 

"  My  Dear  Bishop  : 

Yours  came  to  me  two  or  three  days  since.  I 
had  left  Summerfield  for  Georgia  before  it  reached 
there,  and  it  was  forwarded  to  me  at  this  place.  Our 
pecuniary  prospects  for  our  missions  are  indeed  ex- 
tremely dark.  The  fearful  drought  of  the  past  summer 


484 


The  Life  a7id  Letters  of 


will,  I  fear,  carry  want  to  thousands  of  households, 
and,  in  some  instances,  starvation.  Yet  the  people 
seem,  generally  at  least,  not  to  regard  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  displayed  in  this  fearful  judgment.  I  think  it 
will  be  necessary  to  retrench,  yet  I  fear  that  thou- 
sands of  professing  Christians  will  begin  their  curtail- 
ment first  in  God's  portion.  Retrenchment  will  begin 
there  and  not  with  their  fine  equipages,  furniture, 
dress,  jewelry,  etc.  God  help  us  !  I  think  I  shall 
postpone  the  appointment  of  missionaries  to  Central 
America  for  a  while.  Possibly  I  may  send  one  to 
Panama,  as  they  propose  there  to  support  their  mis- 
sionaries themselves. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  have  been  for  some 
time  past  employed  so  happily  and  profitably.  Would 
that  I  could  strike  such  a  streak.  I  am  at  present 
at  my  daughter's  in  Georgia.  Bishop  Early  writes 
me  that  he  thinks  the  Baltimore  Conference  will  come 
South.  If  so,  he  asks  if  it  would  not  be  right  for  the 
Bishops  to  recognize  them  as  other  Southern  Confer- 
ences. I  have  answered  in  the  affirmative,  provided 
they  come  freely  of  their  own  accord  and  are  wil- 
ling to  submit  to  our  laws  and  usages.  Was  that 
right?" 

"  Selma,  Ala.,  September  8,  1862. 

"  My  Dear  Brother  : 

"  I  was  rejoiced  to  hear  from  Brother  Lupton,  whom 
I  met  the  other  day,  that  he  had  seen  you,  and  that 
you  were  so  greatly  improved  in  health  as  to  justify  the 
hope  that  you  may  be  able  to  attend  at  least  some  of 
the  Conferences  in  your  district.  I  have  been  arrang- 
ing, in  my  mind,  to  assist  you  in  the  North  Georgia 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  485 


Conference,  if  God  permit.  My  dear  brother,  I  have 
deeply  sympathized  with  you  in  all  your  afflictions, 
and  should  have  been  greatly  pleased  to  visit  you,  but 
what  with  over-feebleness  and  other  difficulties  I  have 
been  unable  to  do  so.  I  did  what  I  could  in  praying 
for  you  and  asking  the  congregations  to  do  so. 
Thousands  of  prayers  ascended  to  heaven  for  you,  and 
I  trust  that  God  has  heard  them  and  will  continue  to 
hear  them,  and  that  you  will  soon  be  able  to  resume 
your  work  ;  but,  by  the  way,  don't  work  too  soon. 
Remember  that  you  must,  for  a  while,  work  like  an 
invalid.  I  hope  to  see  you  during  the  approaching 
winter ;  should  you  pass  through  the  neighborhood 
of  Selma  do  stop  to  see  me  at  my  humble  home.  My 
own  health  is  not  very  stout,  sometimes  very  feeble, 
but  I  am  still  able  to  do  a  little  in  the  vineyard  of  the 
Lord.  Walking  is,  however,  a  task  to  me,  likewise 
standing,  so  that  I  am  frequently  obliged  to  talk  to  the 
people  sitting.  However,  I  love  the  Church  and  her 
glorious  head,  and  while  I  live  I  mean  to  preach,  as  I 
may  be  able,  Jesus  and  his  salvation.  I  have  attended 
during  this  summer  seven  district  meetings,  and  found 
them  all  to  be  seasons  of  great  profit.  I  write  these 
lines  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  must  close. 

Much  love  to  your  family,  and  may  great  grace 
be  with  you  all. 

R.  Paine. 

**  March  21,  1882. 

"Note. — At  a  time  when  I  had  just  fairly  begun  to 
convalesce  after  an  attack  of  typhoid  fever,  in  which 
I  was  and  have  remained  entirely  oblivious  of  passing 
events  during  a  hundred  days,  this  kind  note  was  re- 
ceived : 


486 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


To  BISHOP  PAINE. 

"Columbiana,  Ala.,  October  t6,  1862. 

My  Dear  Brother  : 

On  my  return  home  a  few  days  since  I  received 
your  letter.  I  still  think  of  trying  to  reach  the  Mem- 
phis Conference,  but  think  it  rather  doubtful.  In  ad- 
dition to  the  uncertainty  about  encountering  the  Yan- 
kees, I  have  intelligence  that  my  only  son  was  wounded 
and  taken  prisoner  in  one  of  the  battles  in  Maryland, 
and  of  course  I  feel  considerable  anxiety  about  him, 
and  think  it  not  unlikely  that  I  shall  go  to  look  after 
him.  I  shall  do  so  unless  I  hear  some  satisfactory  in- 
telligence from  him  very  soon.  In  such  circumstances 
as  are  now  around  me  I  must  beg  that  you  attend  the 
Conference  for  me  ;  if  not  the  Conference  must  do 
without  a  bishop. 

"  Now  for  a  few  questions  about  matters  and  things. 
Ought  we  not  to  hold  a  General  Conference  as  soon  as 
practicable  ?  things  are  getting  very  much  out  of  gear. 
Now,  if  we  hold  a  General  Conference  who  shall  com- 
pose it — the  delegates  already  elected,  or  new  ones  to 
be  chosen  by  the  approaching  Conferences  ?  I  had 
thought  those  already  elected,  but  I  find  others  enter- 
tain a  different  opinion.  Bishop  Pierce  thinks  we  had 
better  not  hold  a  General  Conference  until  1866,  but 
get  the  Annual  Conferences  to  authorize  the  bishops 
to  appoint  all  the  editors  and  book  agents — in  fact  all 
the  necessary  officers  which  the  General  Conference 
has  usually  appointed.  I  don't  think  this  will  do,  for 
various  reasons.  I  think  we  should  by  all  means  have 
a  General  Conference,  even  if  not  more  than  half  the 
Annual  Conferences  be  represented  in  it.    We  can't 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


487 


do  things  regular  now;  we  can  only  make  the  best  of 
our  circumstances  and  try  to  save  the  Church  from 
utter  disorganization.  I  had  heard' of  the  sad  fall  of 
the  editor  you  refer  to,  as  having  fallen  in  the'  army, 
but  can't  say  that  I  was  much  surprised.  I  have  always 
been  rather  afraid  of  him.  But  I  was  pained  to  hear 
that  oicr  friend  had  fallen  likewise  ;  I  hope  that  may 
not  be  so.  I  fear  the  army  is  destined  to  be  the  grave 
of  many  a  preacher's  religion.  God  help  the  army 
and  the  chaplains,  many  of  whom,  I  fear,  do  more 
harm  than  good. 

**  We  have  had  some  good  revivals  on  this  circuit, 
and  in  a  few  other  spots  in  this  country.  In  Georgia 
they  have  had  some  interesting  meetings— some  good 
old-fashioned  camp-meetings.  Thank  God  for  some 
light  in  the  midst  of  surrounding  darkness.  Should 
we  have  a  general  Conference,  when  and  where  ? 
And  who  should  call  it  together  ?  Where  is  Bishop 
Soule  ?  Have  not  heard  from  him  in  a  great  while; 
I  feel  some  apprehension  for  you,  especially  since  the 
late  affair  in  Corinth.  I  don't  like  the  way  our  leaders 
have  managed  in  reference  to  matters  on  the  Missis- 
sippi. It  seems  to  me  the  whole  management  of  the 
war  on  the  great  river  has  been  a  series  of  blunders. 
I  hope  Van  Dorn  will  be  removed,  and  may  be  suc- 
ceeded by  a  better  man. 

But  I'll  stop.  My  kind  regards  to  Sister  Paine 
and  the  soldier's  wife,  and  to  James  and  his  family.  I 
hope  he  will  recover,  and  that  God  may  sanctify  his 
affliction.  My  love  to  John  Merriwether  when  you 
see  him.  My  health  is  tolerably  good,  but  my  wife's 
health  is  feeble.    God  bless  you  and  yours." 


488 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


To  BISHOP  PAINE 
*'  Newton  County,  Ga  ,  September  20,  1862. 

Dear  Brother  : 

"  Your  letter  directed  to  Oxford  was  received  a  few 
days  since.  I  have  deeply  sympathized  with  you  in 
your  troubles  consequent  on  the  proximity  of  Lin- 
coln's men.  Though  your  picture  makes  it  even  a 
little  worse  than  I  expected,  I'm  glad  your  country  is 
rid  of  them.  God  grant  that  they  may  never  return. 
Oh,  war,  cruel  war  !  How  fearful  are  its  curses  upon 
any  people  !  Memphis  Conference  is  to  be  held  at 
Holly  Springs  if  the  coast  is  clear.  Now,  as  you  are 
on  the  spot,  and  can  more  readily  have  communica- 
tion with  the  brethren,  please  consider  yourself  in 
charge  of  the  Conference  and  make  any  changes  which 
you  think  best,  and  I  will  work  into  your  place. 
Should  the  Yankees  return  or  continue  to  occupy  the 
Southwest  in  any  considerable  force,  it  will  not  be  ad- 
visable for  you  to  cross  the  Mississippi  to  your  work. 
But  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge  as  the  time  ap- 
proaches. Should  you  not  go  I  shall  expect  you  with 
me  at  the  Memphis  Conference.  But  by  what  route 
shall  I  reach  either  Holly  Springs  or  Grenada  ?  I  sup- 
pose railroad  communication  is  entirely  cutoff.  How 
can  either  place  be  reached  supposing  the  Yankees 
retain  their  present  hold  on  the  country  ?  I  suppose 
it  is  well  to  be  looking  ahead.  I  think  we  must  make 
an  effort  for  a  General  Conference  some  time  this  win- 
ter or  in  early  spring.  If  so,  where  shall  we  hold  it  ? 
Shall  the  delegates  already  elected  be  the  represen- 
tatives, or  shall  Annual  Conferences  elect  others  ? 
Everything  now  is  obliged  to  be  irregular.  Necessity 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  489 


is  upon  us  and  we  must  do  the  best  we  can.  We 
are  having  some  fine  revivals  in  this  country.  A 
good  deal  of  the  old  camp-meeting  fire  yet  burns  in 
Georgia.  My  own  health  is  good — my  wife's  very 
poor.  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  new  son  in-law,  and  I 
hope  he  may  prove  a  blessing  to  his  wife  and  her 
parents.  I  trust  James  has  recovered  by  this  time. 
Give  my  love  to  him.  Remember  me  kindly  to  Sister 
Paine  and  to  all  the  children,  and  also  to  James's  wife.  . 
God  bless  you  and  yours  and  bless  us  all." 

To  BISHOP  PAINE. 

"  March  10,  1862. 

My  Dear  Bishop  : 

I  wrote  to  you  some  time  since  that  I  had  con- 
cluded to  postpone  the  General  Conference  to  some 
future  time  to  be  fixed  by  the  Bishops,  and  I  now 
write  to  say  that  that  meeting  will  take  place  in 
Atlanta,  Ga. ,  on  April  lOth  next.  I  have  selected 
Atlanta  as  perhaps  it  will  be  the  most  central  position 
for  us  all.    I  trust  it  will  be  agreeable  to  you. 

"  Well,  we  are  in  a  bad  fix.  What  is  to  become  of 
us  in  Church  and  State  1  God  only  knows,  and  he 
alone  can  help  us.  Shall  be  glad  to  hear  from  you. 
God  bless  you  and  yours. 

"  Affectionately, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

The  arrangement  for  the  General  Conference  in 
Atlanta  fell  through,  but  the  Bishops,  with  Dr.  Mc- 
Tyiere  and  other  preachers,  met  in  Columbus,  Ga. 

21* 


490 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


To  DR.  F.  A.  MOOD. 

"  Summerfield,  October  13,  1863. 

Dear  Frank: 

I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  your  kind  letter, 
received  some  little  time  since,  and  should  be  very 
happy  to  have  often  a  repetition  of  such  favors.  They 
tell  me  that  your  big  gun  is  bursted  :  how  now  ?  I 
suppose  that  your  defences  are  by  that  much  weak- 
ened, yet  I  guess  your  able  and  indefatigable  officers 
will  find  means  to  supply  its  loss.  Well,  good  old 
Charleston  is  defending  herself  rTobly  against  the  most 
unscrupulous,  persevering,  and  ingenious  foes  that 
ever  beleaguered  a  city.  May  God  disappoint  them  at 
last,  and  may  the  Confederate  flag  always  float  proudly 
over  your  city.  Our  country  is  certainly  in  a  perilous 
condition,  and  God  alone  can  deliver  us.  I  rejoice  in  the 
weekly  tidings  of  extensive  revivals  of  religion  among 
our  soldiers.  This  is,  I  think,  one  principal  encourage- 
ment at  present.  It  says  plainly  that  God  is  with  us, 
and  afl'ords  strong  ground  for  believing  that  He  will  yet 
deliver  us.  In  Him  is  all  my  hope  for  myself  and  my 
country.  Thanks  to  God  for  our  recent  victory.  We 
are  in  danger  of  making  too  much  ado  about  it.  As 
long  as  Rosecrans  occupies  Chattanooga  our  victory  is 
only  half  achieved,  and  I  doubt  not  that  it  will  be  found 
very  difficult  to  drive  him  from  his  position.  This 
seems  to  be  the  case  with  all  our  victories  ;  the  work  is 
left  only  half  accomplished.  Our  generals  appear  to  me 
to  know  how  to  fight  well  without  knowing  how  to  im- 
prove their  victories.  The  clouds  are  dark,  and  our  sun 
is  deeply  obscured,  but  Jesus  reigns  in  heaven  and  in 
earth,  and  we  may  rest  assured  if  the  Lord  delight  in 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


491 


us  we  shall  succeed,  and  in  any  event  God  will  over- 
rule all  for  His  glory  and  the  good  of  the  Church. 

**  I  was  glad  to  see  by  the  Advocate ^  that  you  were 
now  a  chaplain  to  one  or  more  of  the  hospitals  in 
Charleston.  I  congratulate  you  on  your  appointment 
to  this  most  honorable  and  useful  position.  It  opens 
a  fine  field  for  usefulness  which  I  trust  you  will  most 
assiduously  and  successfully  cultivate.  Oh,  to  be  the 
humble  instrument  of  pointing  the  sick  and  the  dying 
soldier  to  that  Jesus  who  died  to  redeem  them  and  is 
ready  to  save  them  ! .  What  a  glorious  privilege  1  The 
work  may  be  painful,  and  you  may  Ipse  all  your  ener- 
gies and  your  powers  of.  endurance,  but  you  will  not 
falter,  for  Jesus  is  with  you  and  will  commune  con? 
stantly  with  your  heart.  May  God  graciously  and 
abundantly  bless  you  in  your  spul  and  body.  Write 
me  whenever  you  can  and  tell  me  how  things  go  on 
in  the  city.  Remember  me  kindly  to  the  family  and 
all  my  friends  ia  Charleston,  and  tell  them  how  deeply 
I  sympathize  with  them  and  pray  for  them.  My  wife 
joins  me  in  love  to  all.  -  Jimmie  is  still  an  invalid  ;  he 
is  with  me  at  present.  I  wish  you  would  write  to  him. 
I  want  you  all  to  love  each  other. 

Yours  very  affectionately, 

"James  O.  Andrew." 

To  Dr.  JAMES  R.  MOOD. 

"  SUxMMERFIELD,  July  28,  1 86 1. 

My  Dear  James  : 

*'It  has  been  a  long  while  since  I  heard  anything  . 
from  any  of  you.    Once  you  did  write  to  me-coCGa- 
sionally,  but  of  late  you  don't  trouble  yourself  about 
me.    Now,  it  is  true  I'm  an  old  fogy,  but  still  I  love 


492  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


my  kinsfolk  and  love  to  hear  of  their  well-being,  and 
the  fact  is  I  grow  a  little  jealous  if  they  neglect  me.  I 
want  you  to  make  a  note  of  this  and  govern  yourself 
accordingly.  The  fact  is,  I  want  to  know  how  you  all 
are  getting  along.  I  heard  that  Martha  was  very  ill 
last  summer,  and  came  up  to  Atlanta  for  her  health. 
How  has  she  got  ?  Well,  I  hope.  And  I  hope  an- 
other thing — the  next  time  she  gets  up  the  country 
she  will  make  a  brief  halt  in  the  neighborhood  of  Yel- 
low River  Bridge.  I  trust  you  all  are  not  so  elated  at 
being  an  independent  foreign  nation  that  you  will 
grow  proud  and  forget  your  obligations  to  God  and 
His  Church.  I  see  you  have  been  in  a  great  state  of 
excitement — '  War  and  rumors  of  war.'  I  pray  God 
that  He  will  overrule  all  these  disturbances  for  the 
advancement  of  His  own  glorious  kingdom,  and  for 
the  ultimate  peace  and  prosperity  of  this  once  glorious 
and  happy  country.  My  soul  has  been  greatly  trou- 
bled at  the  state  of  the  country.  But  my  reliance  is 
in  God ;  He  sitteth  King  above  the  water-flood.  If 
He  be  pleased  with  us  we  shall  prosper ;  if  He  is 
angry  with  us  we  shall  be  scourged.  Oh  !  may  our 
people  bear  the  rod  and  Him  who  hath  appointed  it. 
If  He  scourge  us,  may  it  be  in  mercy. 

I  should  like  to  hear  the  news  from  Charleston 
fully,  and  I  reckon  I  had  best  take  a  Charleston 
paper.  Can  you  have  the  Charleston  Courier  (weekly) 
sent  to  me  here  ?  My  love  to  your  father  and  to  the 
preachers,  and  everybody  else  who  may  think  enough 
of  me  to  ask  after  me.  Let  me  hear  from  you.  God 
bless  you. 

James  O.  Andrew." 


James  Osgood  Andrew, 


493 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LITERARY  LABORS. 

Qualifications  for  Authorship. — Work  on  "  Family  Government." — "  Mis- 
cellanies."— Newspaper  Contributions. — Review  Articles. 

HAD  Bishop  Andrew  been  less  modest  he  would 
have  written  much  more.  The  fact  that  his 
early  education  had  not  been  advanced,  united  to  the 
fact  that  his  estimate  of  his  own  abilities  was  always 
low,  kept  him  from  attempting  what  he  had  all  ability 
to  do.  He  was,  however,  always  inclined  toward 
authorship.  Had  his  life  been  less  active,  could  he 
have  remained  in  his  study  more,  he  would  have 
written  much  and  have  written  well.  He  did  write 
much,  and  did  write  well ;  but  his  articles  were  mainly 
for  the  periodical  press  and  designed  to  meet  a  pres- 
ent need.  No  man  was  ever  read  more  generally.  He 
was  never  tedious,  never  obscure.  He  said  what  he 
thought,  and  said  it  forcibly. 

He  was  rather  a  thinker  than  a  reader,  rather  a 
reader  than  a  student  —  as  students  are  generally 
known — and  it  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose 
that  since  he  did  not  apply  himself  to  grammars  and 
lexicons  he  did  not  study.  No  man  studied  more 
closely,  and  his  writings  clearly  evince  the  lofty  range 
of  his  thought.    He  read  rapidly  but  thought  pro- 


494 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


foundly  on  what  he  read,  being  a  bold,  practical 
thinker.  He  was  little  given  to  mere  speculation. 
Fond  of  poetry,  he  read  it  with  avidity  when  it  was 
the  poetry  of  the  heart ;  fond  of  music,  he  enjoyed  it 
greatly  when  its  ultimate  was  to  awaken  and  stimulate 
a  holy  affection.  His  style  was  the  luxuriant  elegance 
of  nature — not  the  studied  regulation  beauty  of  a  land- 
scape-gardener with  shears  and  pruning-knife.  He 
prepared  his  sermons  in  his  own  way.  If  he  ever 
wrote  one  I  have  never  seen  it,  and  I  doubt  whether 
he  ever  did.  He  thought  them  out  fully,  and  spoke 
as  he  thought. 

The  sense  of  his  deficiencies,  .as  he  often  called 
them,  of  early  education  always  kept  him  humblcrt- 
too  humble — and  he  seemed  unaware  that  his  schools 
had  led  him  to  the  same  goal  as  those  of.  the  univerr 
sity.  He  knew  how  to  conceive  and  to  bring  forth 
thoughts  of  the  highest  practical  value.  Addison 
himself  never  used  the  Enghsh  tongue  .with ;  more 
felicity  than  he  often  did — a  characteristic  which  clung 
to  him  from  boyhood.  If  his  father  had  had  more 
books  perhaps  it  would  not  have  been  so ;"  but  the  select 
library  he  had,  shut  the  boy  up  to  the  best  works  and 
thus  formed  his  style.  There  are  not  a  few  class-room 
critics  who  read  books  like  a  good  proof-reader  reads 
proof — professionally  and  automatically.  A  misplaced 
comma,  a  misspelled  word,  an  awkward  sentence,  a 
pleonasm,  causes  them  to  lose  sight  of  all  that  is  ex- 
cellent in  the  subject-matter,  and  with  such  Bishop 
Andrew  would  have  stood  rather  a  poor  chance. 
He  wrote  rapidly  and  very  carelessly.  Capable  of 
writing  the  purest  English,  his  composition  did  not 
always  measure  up  to  his  capacity. 


James  Osgood  Aiidrezv. 


495 


Wise  books  are  not  always  large,  and  the  best  are 
not  those  freshest  from  the  press  ;  and  Bishop  An- 
drew's little  book  on  "  Family  Government,"  pub- 
lished nearly  forty  years  ago,  is  full  from  cover  to 
cover  of  most  excellent  and  needed  counsel  on  the 
most  vital  of  subjects.  The  chapters  were  originally 
published  in  the  Soiithern  Christian  Advocate,  and 
the  demand  for  them  was  so  great  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  issue  them  in  book  form,  wherein  was  dis- 
cussed, in  the  most  racy  manner,  the  great  questions 
involved.  The  choice  of  a  companion,  the  proper  rela- 
tion of  husband  and  wife,  the  tender  care  and  perfect 
confidence  of  the  husband,  the  love  and  truth  and  obe- 
dience due  from  the  wife,  parental  discipline,  the  educa- 
tion and  religious  training  of  children,  duty  to  servants 
— on  these  all-important  subjects  he  had  very  decided 
and  pronounced  views,  and  he  gives  them  utterance 
in  his  little  volume.  In  his  chapter  on  the  Duty  to 
Servants  "  his  opinions  on  the  obligation  of  the  Chris- 
tian master  to  regard  the  marriage  tie  of  the  slave, 
and  under  no  circumstances  ever  to  break  it,  are,  ex- 
pressed in  language  strong  enough  for  any  anti-slavery 
man,  as  is  the  sentiment  against  the  domestic  slave- 
trade.  This  little  book  alone  would  establish  Bishop 
Andrew's  claim  to  a  high  place  among  practical  think- 
ers. It  is  a  real  mine  of  wise  counsels  ;  not  a  useless 
or  obscure  sentence  in  it.  The  chapter  on  "Filial 
Duties "  found  its  most  admirable  exemplar  in  the 
author  of  the  book,  the  story  of  whose  untiring  filial 
love  has  been  already  told. 

He  afterward  published  a  volume  of  ''Miscellanies." 
He  had  not  the  time  to  write  laboriously  and  carefully, 
and  his  "Miscellanies,"  from  which  we  have  drawn 


496 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


copiously,  are  merely  selections  from  his  newspaper 
correspondence.  In  addition  to  the  ''Itinerary," 
which  is  delightful  reading,  he  has  five  essays  on 
"  Missions,"  which  are  very  able  and  eloquent. 

"  These  men,"  he  says,  heard  their  Master's  com- 
mission, and,  after  receiving  the  pentecostal  baptism, 
went  forth  fully  armed  and  equipped  for  the  great 
warfare  which  lay  before  them.  They  loved  their 
Master  ;  they  had  witnessed  the  grandeur  of  his  mira- 
cles, the  glory  of  his  transfiguration  ;  they  had  trem- 
bled and  wept  when  all  these  glories  seemed  forever 
eclipsed  in  the  dark  and  gloomy  night  of  his  cruci- 
fixion, and  then  they  had  exulted  in  the  marvel  of  his 
resurrection,  and  their  mind  had  been  opened  to  un- 
derstand the  Scriptures.  .  .  .  They  loved  him  as 
their  own  personal  Saviour,  and  gazing  on  the  whole 
race  from  the  standpoint  of  the  Cross,  their  souls 
yearned  for  the  salvation  of  all,  and  they  went  forth 
to  preach  Jesus  and  him  crucified  to  all,  because  they 
felt  that  he  had  pitied  and  prayed  and  died  for  all. 

One  God-given  motive,  one  heaven-born, 
all-absorbing  passion,  controlled,  directed.  '  The  love 
of  Christ  constraineth  us  '  was  their  motto.  They  in- 
quired not  if  the  field  was  ple'asant,  the  labor  Hght, 
the  pay  good,  or  whether  it  was  near  home,  but  the 
only  question  was  as  to  their  individual  responsibility. 

'''Does  God  send  us?'  was  the  only  question. 
Such  were  the  men  who  composed  the 
Saviour's  grand  army  of  invasion.  .  .  .  We  re- 
gard the  Saviour  as  intending  this  command  to  speak 
trumpet-tongued  to  the  church  ministers  and  laity, 
till  the  work  is  consummated — till  from  hill  and  vale 
and  mountain-top,  from  the  North  Pole  to  the  South 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


497 


— everywhere — from  palace  and  hovel,  from  the  lips 
of  kings,  nobles,  slaves,  and  beggars  the  world-wide 
AUelulia  shall  be." 

Christianity  is  essentially  aggressive  in  its  charac- 
ter. It  can  never  be  at  rest  so  long  as  sin  and  error 
are  in  the  world.  Holiness  and  sin  can  never  unite 
in  wedlock,  but  there  must  necessarily  be  war — stern, 
uncompromising  war — between  them.  .  .  .  The 
preacher  of  the  Cross  was  in  some  sort  an  Ishmaelite 
— whenever  he  preached  there  was  an  open  declara- 
tion of  war  against  long-cherished  and  firmly  estab- 
lished systems  of  religion.  Could  these  early  preach- 
ers look  for  anything  else  than  persecution?  .  .  . 
Yet  no  man  among  them  faltered,  no  craven  hps 
whispered  of  retreat  or  a  truce  with  the  powers  of 
darkness." 

"  It  is,"  he  adds,  it  must  always  be,  decidedly  and 
boldly  aggressive.  The  moment  it  ceases  to  be  so  it 
loses  the  distinctive  characteristic  of  the  Church  of 
Jesus.  Whenever  the  members  of  a  Church  become 
satisfied  with  paying  their  own  preacher,  whenever 
they  begin  to  count  the  cost  of  sending  the  Gospel  to 
distant  lands,  and  the  preachers  encourage  this  spirit 
lest  they  might  find  a  lessening  of  their  support,  you 
may  be  sure  that,  without  a  prompt  repentance, 
Ichabod  will  be  the  appropriate  inscription  for  their 
temple." 

"  Wesley  had  a  soul  too  large  and  a  zeal  too  se- 
raphic to  be  limited  in  his  operations  by  conventional 
forms  or  parochial  limits.  '  The  world  is  my  parish,' 
was  his  grand  missionary  response  to  those  who 
sought  to  tie  him  down.  ...  It  was  in  accord- 
ance with  this  view  that  he  so  early  sent  missionaries 


498 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  these  shores,  and  the  men  who  were  sent  hither  by 
him  came  breathing  the  same  spirit.  They  found 
themselves  in  a  land  which  was  emphatically  a  vast 
missionary  field,  and  they  went  forth  boldly,  scatter- 
ing with  liberal  hand  the  Word  of  Life.  .  .  .  But 
few  comfortable  homes  smiled  on  their  approach  or 
invited  their  stay  ;  no  missionary  treasury  ever  prom- 
ised them  a  decent  coat ;  yet  they  went  forth  stretch- 
ing their  lines  on  every  side,  not  waiting  for  good 
houses  or  polite  invitations,  but  all  the  while  looking 
out  anxiously  for  some  destitute  nook  or  corner  where 
they  might  find  an  open  door  or  force  one." 

These  are  some  of  the  ringing  sentences  of  these 
appeals,  and  with  a  practical  application  he  concludes 
the  fourth  of  them.    Speaking  of  China,  he  says  : 

"It  is  obvious  to  every  man  of  reflection  that  we 
must  either  strengthen  the  mission  or  abandon  it ; 
which  shall  we  do  ?  As  I  have  charge  of  that  work  I 
advertise  you,  /  cannot,  will  not,  retreat.  We  want 
two  men  to  send  to  China  this  year,  and  we  wish  it 
understood  that  these  men  are  to  be  regarded  as  the 
vanguard  of  a  much  larger  force.  If  the  Board  will 
endorse  it  and  help  us  out,  very  well ;  if  not,  we  shall 
throw  ourselves  upon  the  Church  and  our  friends  for 
the  wherewithal  to  sustain  us  in  our  plans." 

**  And  now,  in  accordance  with  these  views,  we 
think  the  Church  has  acted  wisely  in  establishing  her 
first  foreign  mission  in  China.  If  we  are  going  to  at- 
tack idolatry,  let  it  be  in  the  heart  of  the  empire. 
The  Chinese  are  to  some  extent  enlightened  ;  they 
are  a  reading  people.  The  field  is  a  wide  one,  and  if 
we  can  succeed  in  giving  the  Scriptures  and  the  Gos- 
pel of  God  free  circulation  throughout  that  vast  em- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


499 


pire,  we  shall  have  kindled  a  fire  whose  light  and  heat 
shall  be  felt  through  all  heathendom."  So  the  brave 
old  man  saw  thirty  years  ago.  From  the  mount  of 
prophetic  vision  he  saw  the  grand  work  now  just 
fairly  beginning.  Does  he  not  work  now  for  China 
as  he  did  then  ?    Yea,  verily,  only  better. 

I  have  given  these  random  extracts,  not  only  to  show 
his  style,  but  to  show  how  wise  he  was  in  his  views  on 
China  thirty  years  ago.  To-day,  as  I  was  writing 
(May  i8,  1882),  I  saw  a  cable  telegram  from  Dr.  Allen, 
of  the  China  Mission  to  the  General  Conference,  and 
can  hear  that  body  singing  the  Doxology  in  their 
grateful  fervor.  That  telegram  had  not  been  sent  nor 
the  Doxology  sung,  perhaps,  if  the  brave  old  Bishop 
had  not  said,  I  shall  not  retreat.  Appropriation  or 
no  appropriation  the  missionaries  shall  go^  and  more 
shall  follow  them.'' 

He  wrote  much,  and  his  writing,  like  his  speaking, 
was  always  to  edification.  In  1842,  we  find  a  letter 
to  Amelia,  telling  her  that  the  Mississippi  Conference 
earnestly  asked  for  his  address  to  the  candidates,  and 
that  he  had  really  written  two  or  three  pages.  He 
completed  the  writing  and  published  the  address  to 
candidates  ;  this  was  when  he  had  been  a  Bishop  for 
ten  years.  There  are  passages  in  it  which  stir  the 
heart  to  its  depths.  Can  you  trust  God  ?  "  he  says. 
"  Have  you  in  your  heart  a  realizing  sense  of  the  pres- 
ence of  Him  who  is  invisible  ?  You  will  find  this  es- 
sential to  your  proper  and  successful  ministration  of 
the  Word  of  Life.  Without  it  your  heart  will  fail  in 
the  cloudy  and  dark  day  when  the  storm  is  loud  and 
the  waves  are  running  high.  Nothing  can  sustain  a 
man  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  but  a  Divine  persua- 


500 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


sion  of  the  presence  of  the  ever-living  God.  Without 
this  our  ministrations  may  be  teeming  with  wisdom 
and  beautiful  oratory,  but  they  will  be  powerless. 
The  light  we  show  forth  may  be  brilliant,  but  it  will 
be  the  cold  moonbeam  playing  among  the  crags  of 
the  towering  iceberg.  There  will  be  no  heat,  no 
thawing  power  will  go  with  it.  Look  well  to  your- 
selves on  this  point.  .  .  .  Baptized  with  this 
Spirit  you  will  have  proper  views  of  your  ministry,  its 
obligations  and  its  issues.  The  cry  of  perishing  millions 
will  come  over  your  heart  like  a  voice  from  the  spirit 
land.  The  love  of  Christ  will  constrain  you,  and  you 
will  gladly  dedicate  all  your  powers,  and  all  your  days 
to  the  great  work  of  publishing  peace  by  Jesus  Christ. 

.  We,  above  all  men,  have  no  time  for  idle- 
ness or  unprofitable  employment.  Time  is  flying, 
sinners  are  dying,  the  Master  is  calling,  and  a  voice 
from  the  most  excellent  glory  urges  you  to  your  pray- 
ers, to  your  Bible,  and  to  your  pulpits.  It  is  because 
this  rule  is  so  much  neglected  that  many  of  our  preach- 
ers do  not  rise  to  respectability  in  their  calling.  It  is 
not  want  of  gifts,  it  is  not  want  of  time,  it  is  not  want 
of  means  :  nine  times  out  of  ten  it  is  because  they  vio- 
late this  rule.  They  are  idle,  they  sleep,  they  lounge, 
they  read  newspapers,  they  talk  politics,  they  sit 
about  the  stores  or  in  the  changing  shade  where  vil- 
lage gossips  meet,  or  read  the  trash  with  which  the 
periodical  press  is  weekly  flooding  the  country,  in- 
stead of  grappling  with  unfaltering  purpose  the  mys- 
terious and  glowing  truths  which,  after  the  example 
of  angels,  they  are  called  to  study.  The  result  is  their 
minds  are  barren.  They  preach  the  same  sermons 
now  that  they  did  twenty  years  ago,  and  the  people, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


501 


tired  of  eating  always  the  same  stale  loaf,  leave  them 
to  dispense  it  to  empty  benches,  and  then,  instead  of 
taking  shame  to  themselves,  they  abuse  the  few  faith- 
ful who  take  up  the  cross  in  coming  to  hear  them, 
alleging  that  the  people  are  all  backsliders,  and  point- 
ing to  houses  their  own  idleness  hath  emptied  as  the 
proof.  .  .  .  We  have  no  heart  to  seek  popularity, 
no  ear  to  hear  its  shout.  Heaven  and  hell,  sin  and 
holiness,  condemnation  and  pardon,  the  incarnation, 
agony,  death,  resurrection,  ascension,  and  second 
coming  of  the  glorious  Redeemer,  God's  wrath  and 
God's  love,  the  world's  falsehood  and  God's  truth — 
these  are  the  themes  of  our  thought  and  speech,  and 
is  there  any  time  for  us  to  be  trifling  ?  Be  serious. 
Your  love  to  God  and  man  will  make  you  cheerful, 
but  it  should  also  maintain  in  you  a  spirit  of  serious- 
ness. .  .  .  To  your  prayers,  your  books,  and 
your  work  till  you  have  acquired  character  sufficient 
to  command  a  welcome  from  the  people  of  your  charge 
both  for  yourself  and  your  wife ;  and  should  some 
angel  form,  some  creature  of  light,  in  the  meantime 
rise  before  your  vision,  and  you  begin  to  say,  *  I  shall 
never  see  another  one' — stop  brother ;  don't  be  un- 
easy ;  first  prepare  yourself  for  your  work,  and  then 
either  this  or  some   other   Angel  will  cross  your 

path  " 

The  remainder  of  the  address,  which  is  a  long  one, 
is  filled  with  such  wise  counsels.  I  do  not  know  a 
treatise  on  pastoral  theology  which  is  fuller  of  wisdom. 
The  young  preachers  who  read  this  biography  will  do 
well  to  get  the  "Miscellanies"  and  carefully  study 
these  judicious  teachings  of  one  of  the  wisest  of  our 
teachers.    He  wrote  to  do  good,  and  so  he  wrote 


502 


The  Life  and  Letters  *of 


through  the  newspaper  press.  The  columns  of  every 
newspaper  in  the  connection  were  enriched  by  him 
with  occasional  articles.  After  Dr.  Summers  began 
to  edit  the  Review  he  wrote  often  for  him,  and  his 
articles  were  always  leading  ones. 

Perhaps  the  last  Review  article  he  gave  was  on 
"  Ministerial  Education."  He  believed  in  education. 
He  had  always  worked  for  it  and  for  the  education  of 
ministers,  but  he  doubted  whether  any  one  curricu- 
lum would  suit  all,  and  whether  some  men  would  be 
better  preachers  or  more  efficient  workers  if  they  had 
classical  training.  To  make  any  high  grade  of  at- 
tainments a  sine  qua  non  to  the  ministerial  office  he 
did  not  believe  to  be  wise  or  Christian.  His  views 
were  moderate  and  conservative — educate  as  highly  as 
you  can  consistently  with  the  interest  at  stake,  with 
the  work  to  be  done.  His  last  published  article  was 
to  the  Christiaji  Index,  for  his  colored  friends.  His 
last  paper  (which  was  not  printed  until  after  his  death) 
was  addressed  to  young  preachers,  through  the  New 
Orleans  CJiristiaji  Advocate ^  and  we  give  it  entire  : 

[The  Rev.  J.  W  Rush  sends  us  a  paper  written 
by  Bishop  Andrew  just  before  he  was  stricken  with 
paralysis.  The  letter  covers  four  pages  of  letter  sheet, 
and  is  in  the  Bishop's  characteristic  chirography,  only 
indicating  a  hand  more  trembling  and  nervous  than 
usual.  The  labor  of  writing  with  a  pen  seems  to  have 
been  exceedingly  difficult,  and  the  fourth  page  is 
written  with  a  pencil.  Brother  Rush,  in  a  note  ac- 
companying the  letter  says  :  '  I  herewith  send  you 
the  piece  on  "  Levity  in  the  Ministry,"  written  by 
Bishop  Andrew  while  at  the  house  of  his  dear  friend, 
Dr.  Moss,  in  New  Orleans.    It  is  the  last  piece  he 


James  Osgood  Andrew'?'  503 

ever  wrote  for  the  public.  I  found  it  in  his  pocket, 
and  put  it  away  so  carefully  that  it  seemed  I  would 
never  find  it  again.  I  regret  that  it  did  not  sooner 
occur  to  me  where  I  had  put  it.  The  letter  was 
written  for  the  Advocate,  and  is  at  your  service.'] 

\'  LEVITY  IN  THE  MINISTRY. 

*'  Is  there  not  too  much  levity  in  the  ministry,  and 
in  th€  Church  generally  ?  The  apostle,  I  think,  warns 
us  against  foolish  talking  and  jesting,  which,  he  says, 
are  not  convenient,  but  rather  giving  of  thanks  ;  and 
our  discipline  says  :  *  Be.  serious  ;  let  your  motto  be 
Holiness.^'  Now  from  these  important  teachings  I  in- 
fer that  the  apostle  did  not  believe  this  levity  of  speech 
did  well  agree  with  the  Christian's  proper  spirit  of 
thanksgiving.  We  think  that  for  Christian  Ministers 
it  is  of  the  first  importance  that  they  cultivate  a  spirit 
of  seriousness.  It  seems  to  me  that  every  circum- 
stance connected  with  their  work  demands  that  it  be 
done  seriously.  They  stand  as  God's  embassadors  to 
a  world  <jf  lost  and  helpless  sinners.  God's  character 
and  his  word  to  these  sinners  must  form  the  theme  of 
their  ministrations.  Does  it  become  them  to  laugh 
and  joke  when  they  are  addressing  the  mighty  God  in 
prayer  ?  Or  is  it  appropriate  that  when  we  are  ad- 
dressing a  poor  lost  and  wandering  sinner,  and  en- 
deavoring earnestly  to  persuade  him  to  come  to  the 
Good  Shepherd  in  view  of  his  imminent  danger  as  a 
sinner  wandering  from  God,  and  to  urge  him  to  the 
mercy  seat  in  view  of  the  agony  of  the  cross,  and  the 
glorious  resurrection,  and  invitations  and  promises  of 
an  ascended  and  glorified  Redeemer,  when  the  sin- 


504 


The  Life  ajid  Letters  of 


ner  is  seeking  mercy  and  comes  to  you  for  help,  would 
it  seem  appropriate  to  you,  as  God's  servant,  when 
the  guilty  sinner  asks  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved, 
that  you  tell  him  in  reply  some  pleasant  story  and  ac- 
company it  with  loud  laughter  ?  Would  not  this  seem 
wretchedly  out  of  joint  for  a  Christian  pastor  ?  And 
yet  how  many  Christian  pastors  do  this  very  thing  sub- 
stantially ?  Oh  !  Christian  brother,  can  you  look  at 
the  dying  thousands  around  you  and  fail  to  feel  seri- 
ous in  view  of  their  present  condition  and  future  pros- 
pects ? 

Now,  a  few  words  to  the  preachers  before  we 
close  these  desultory  remarks.  I  ask  you,  my  breth- 
ren, can  you  look  to  the  future  of  precious  souls 
around  you,  and  not  feel  your  soul  moved  for  them  ? 
And  will  you  not  resolve,  by  God's  help,  to  do  all  in 
your  power  to  save  them  ?  Now,  if  these  people 
daily  associate  with  you,  and  the  best  judgment  which 
they  can  form  of  you  is  that  you  are  a  good  fellow, 
can  crack  a  good  joke,  tell  a  good  story,  and  can  set  the 
table  in  a  roar,  are  you  likely  to  win  them  to  Jesus  ? 
I  know  some  preachers  who  are  not  remarkable  for 
anything  except  that  they  can  tell  a  good  story,  and 
manufacture  all  the  trimmings  to  pass  well.  The  Rev. 
Dr.  Olin  is  reported  to  have  said  that  he  never  knew 
a  man  who  could  tell  a  good  story  who  did  not  lie. 
This  may  seem  rather  a  hard  judgment,  yet  I  think 
there  is  more  truth  than  poetry  in  it. 

"We  have  certainly  no  objection  to  a  proper 
amount  of  cheerfulness,  and  a  chastened  wit  and 
humor  in  the  social  intercourse  of  friends,  but  let  it 
be  properly  regulated,  both  as  to  quality  and  quantity, 
both  as  to  time  and  place.    I  fear  that  many  of  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


505 


people  look  quite  too  much  to  amusement  for  happi- 
ness. See  what  a  tendency  in  the  church  to  light  and 
trifling  amusements  which  ungodly  people  delight 
to  indulge  in.  And  this  is  seen  not  only  in  their 
conversations  and  associations,  but  in  the  book  which 
they  delight  to  read.  Perhaps  I  have  said  quite  too 
much.  May  be  so  ;  but  my  soul  has  often  been 
pained  in  looking  at  this  thing.  I  love  the  Church 
and  seek  her  welfare,  or  I  had  not  written  these 
things. 

May  God  bless  them  to  the  good  of  all  con- 
cerned. 

*' James  O.  Andrew." 

22 


5o6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCE. 

Conversion. — Consecration. —  Obedience. —  Christian  Perfection. —  Faith 
in  Providence. — Instances  of  Interposition. — Submission  to  God's 
Will. — Bishop  Pierce's  View. 

THE  Christian  experience  of  any  good  man  is 
worthy  of  special  and  careful  study,  and  when 
that  man  has  a  character  so  marked,  and  so  striking 
as  was  that  of  Bishop  Andrew,  and  the  revelation  of 
his  inner  life  has  been  so  full  it  becomes  especially 
valuable. 

As  he  taught,  he  was.  His  doctrines  and  his  life 
were  in  accord.  He  believed  in  a  religion  that  had 
its  effect  upon  the  whole  life — mind  and  heart  and 
body  ;  the  sensations  as  well  as  the  conscience  and 
the  understanding — and  he  was  assured  by  his  own 
feelings  of  the  correctness  of  that  belief.  How  early 
his  rehgious  life  began,  who  can  tell  ?  Baptized  in 
infancy,  taught  to  pray  before  he  could  remember, 
always  conscientious  and  reverential,  he  could  not 
point  to  a  period  when  he  did  not  honor  God  and 
love  Jesus  ;  but  when  his  consciousness  of  the  divine 
favor  was  first  felt  he  could  tell  very  plainly.  Per- 
haps no  boy  could  have  been  freer  from  even  boyish 
sins.  He  was  as  innocent,  perhaps,  as  a  boy  could 
be  without  conscious  faith  up  to  the  time  he  was  fifteen 


James  Osgood  Andrciv. 


507 


years  old.  Then,  at  a  camp-meeting  in  1809,  he  felt 
the  pangs  of  guilt ;  he  repented,  went  to  Christ,  re- 
ceived the  holy  ghost  as  a  witnessing  renewing  power, 
and  went  away  in  peace.  It  was  not  what  the  old 
fathers  would  have  called  a  powerful  conversion,  and 
perhaps  that  caused  many  a  doubt  afterward.  There 
was  nothing  very  remarkable  in  it.  He  was  awakened  ; 
he  sought  Christ  and  soon  found  him  and  joined  in 
society.  Perhaps  the  outward  change  was  scarcely 
perceptible.  His  boyhood's  Christian  life  was  like 
that  of  most  immature  and  inexperienced  persons, 
marked  by  doubts  and  perplexities,  and,  as  he  called 
them,  heart  backslidings.  But  one  feature  belonged 
to  him,  then  as  always — obedience  to  the  call  of  duty. 

We  have  already  seen  his  early  struggles  about 
preaching.  He  was  told,  after  he  made  an  honest 
effort  to  preach,  that  he  never  would  make  a  preacher. 
He  agreed  with  the  one  who  told  him,  but  did  not 
cease  to  try.  He  had  made  an  entire  surrender  to 
God,  and  an  entire  consecration  to  His  service.  He 
did  this  at  the  beginning.  He  never  repudiated  it. 
He  had  entered  into  a  solemn  covenant  to  be  the 
Lord's.  God  was  his  father ;  Jesus  Christ  his  Lord  ; 
to  obey  without  hesitation  was  his  watchword  all  his 
life.  In  a  letter  to  his  son  seeking  Christ,  he  says  : 
''Make  an  entire  consecration,  keep  back  nothing." 
I  think  perhaps  this  recognition  of  the  absolute  au- 
thority of  Jesus  Christ  over  him  was  the  most  promi- 
nent feature  of  his  life.  Jesus  Christ  had  given  His 
life  for  him,  he  gave  in  return  his  life  to  Him  ;  con- 
strained by  love  he  would  live  unto  Him. 

He  left  his  home  because  he  heard  his  Master's  call. 
He  refused  to  leave  his  hard  work  even  when  filial 


5o8 


The  Life  a7td  Letters  of 


affection  seemed  to  demand  it,  because  his  Master  had 
not  given  him  his  discharge.  It  was  this  spirit  of 
perfect  submission  which  kept  him  at  his  post  while 
his  queenly  young  wife  toiled  to  assist  in  supporting 
his  little  girls,  while  he  gave  all  his  time  to  a  people 
able  enough  to  support  him,  but  too  little  willing. 
Whatever  God  required  he  was  to  do — 

"  His  not  to  reason  why. 
His  not  to  make  reply, 
His  but  to  do  and  die." 

There  was  positively  no  reserve.  There  was  no 
place  to  which  he  would  not  go,  no  suffering  he  would 
not  endure.  There  was  no  price  so  great  as  to  bribe 
him  ;  no  pleasure  so  bright  as  to  seduce  him ;  no 
danger  so  great  as  to  daunt  him.  From  boyhood  to 
near  his  fourscore  years,  he  was  an  entirely  conse- 
crated man.  He  was  a  son  who  yielded  all  the  obedi- 
ance  of  a  servant. 

His  faith  took  hold  on  all  that  God  had  revealed. 
Jesus  Christ,  the  atonement,  the  sinner's  friend  ;  Jesus, 
who  had  died  for  every  child  of  man,  who  could  save, 
and  would  save,  was  his  friend,  and  his  Saviour. 
"  Come  to  Jesus  ;  "  "  Love  Jesus  ;  "  Obey  Jesus  ;  " 
he  said  to  the  children,  in  those  years  when  he  could 
no  longer  preach  as  had  been  his  wont.  "  Come  to 
Jesus,"  had  been  the  theme  of  his  ministry  all  his 
life  long.  He  lived  by  faith  in  Him.  He  knew  noth- 
ing but  Jesus,  as  an  object  of  trust.  His  trust  in  the 
fulness  and  freeness  and  sufficiency  of  grace  was  en- 
tire. The  flesh  was  weak,  but  there  was  the  Spirit  to 
sanctify.  Man  was  unworthy,  but  God  was  willing  to 
forgive  and  to  help. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


509 


His  religious  life  was  a  sensation.  He  enjoyed  it. 
He  had  a  religion  that  he  felt.  His  communion  with 
God  was  constant  and  joyous.  He  seems  to  have 
been  always  happy  in  his  religion  ;  but  we  look  in 
vain  for  the  raptures  of  Rutherford,  the  heavenly  ab- 
straction of  Leighton,  and  the  seraphic  ecstacy  of 
Fletcher.  He  knew  nothing  of  the  religious  depres- 
sion of  Bunyan,  nor  of  the  exalted  and  unearthly 
raptures  of  Payson.  He  lived  on  the  Delectable 
Mountains,  but  knew  nothing  of  Giant  Despair,  nor 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  nor  of  the  un- 
earthly ecstacy  of  Beulah  land.  His  was  a  manly, 
healthy,  serene,  well-pgised  life.  He  was  never  given 
to  extravagancies  of  feeling  or  expression,  and  had 
little  use  for  them. 

He  was  thoroughly  Wesleyan  in  his  belief — that  we 
are  justified  by  faith,  that  we  have  dominion  over  all 
sin,  and  that  the  peace  of  God  and  joy  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  are  for  all  God's  children,  even  the  humblest. 
He  fully  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  Perfect  Love,  as 
John  Wesley  defined  it.  He  evidently,  for  many  years, 
enjoyed  it,  though  he  never  professed  it,  nor  do  I 
find  in  any  of  his  letters  any  allusion  to  it  distinc- 
tively ;  he  seemed  to  regard  this  Higher  Life,  as  it  is 
called,  as  in  the  reach  of  all  true  believers,  and  as  ob- 
ligatory on  all. 

His  third  wife,  a  most  saintly  woman,  urged  him  to 
profess  Christian  Perfection,  but  he  would  not.  Had 
his  ideas  of  Christian  Perfection  been  the  same  as  hers, 
and  of  many  of  its  most  sincere  and  excellent  profes- 
sors, he  would  not  have  hesitated,  but  his  view  of  the 
grace  was  so  exalted,  and  his  estimate  of  himself  so 
low,  that  he  never  applied  this  term  to  his  own  expe- 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


rience.  He  lived  in  the  Light,  he  walked  in  the  Spirit, 
he  had  a  love  which  cast  out  all  fear.  He  had  refresh- 
ing seasons  of  holy  communion  with  God,  he  was  at 
peace  with  all  men,  he  was  entirely  consecrated  to 
God's  service,  his  faith  was  unwavering.  All  this  he 
was  ready  meekly  to  declare  as  his  portion,  through 
God's  grace,  but  he  gave  this  state  of  the  heart  no 
name.  No  man  ever  believed  more  fully  in  the  blessed 
truth,  that  we  are  sanctified  by  faith,  than  he  did.  No 
man  ever  believed  in  the  rest  of  faith  more  firmly,  no 
man  seems  to  have  known  for  long  years  more  com- 
pletely what  it  was  to  have  entire  dominion  over  sin — 
entire  deadness  to  the  world  ;  but  when  he  reached 
this  state  of  grace  he  does  not  say.  There  is  no  evi- 
dence from  him  that  he  ever  passed  through  a  second 
marked  change.  There  is  evidence  that  this  matu- 
rity of  grace  w^as  secured  after  his  conversion,  but  at 
what  time  we  do  not  know.  He  certainly — while  he 
says  nothing  in  his  letters  with  reference  to  the  grace  of 
Christian  Perfection  as  a  distinct  grace  given  always 
after  Regeneration  through  faith,  and  instantaneously 
— was  not  disposed  to  discount  those  who  professed 
to  have  attained  it  thus.  He  was  in  full  sympathy 
with  them,  and  rejoiced  in  their  joy.  Mr.  Andrew," 
said  his  last  wife,  "is  an  enigma  to  me.  I  know  I 
am  by  the  blood  of  Jesus  cleansed  from  sin,  and  yet  I 
know  he  is  better  than  I  am,  and  he  will  not  say  he 
i^."  He  did  not,  I  think,  have  any  special  objection 
to  the  use  of  the  terms  Entire  Sanctification  of  Per- 
fection," but,  like  Mr.  Wesley  himself,  preferred  rather 
to  tell  what  God  had  done  for  him  than  to  call  the 
blessing  by  a  name  of  man's  choosing.  His  journal 
evinces  his  interest  on  this  subject  at  an  early  period. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


511 


His  life  indicates  how  fully  he  came  up  to  the  highest 
standard,  and  his  letters  show  how  fully  and  entirely 
he  was  sanctified  throughout  body  and  soul  and  spirit. 
Loving  God  with  his  whole  heart  and  mind  and  soul 
and  strength,  rejoicing  evermore,  in  everything  giving 
thanks,  and  praying  without  ceasing,  no  man  ever 
raised  the  standard  higher,  no  man  ever  strove  harder 
to  come  up  to  it.  I  doubt  whether  many  have  suc- 
ceeded better.  I  have  studied  his  life  from  his  boy- 
hood to  his  death,  as  it  has  been  revealed  by  those  who 
knew  him  best,  and  I  have  not  found  an  act  of  a  moral 
character  that  needed  defence  or  explanation.  I  have 
read  his  letters  for  nearly  sixty  years — written  to  father 
and  mother,  wife  and  children,  on  all  subjects  ;  writ- 
ten without  any  reserve,  written  for  no  eye  but  theirs  ; 
letters  to  his  colleagues,  to  his  brethren,  in  stirring, 
angry  times,  when  his  name  was  rudely,  unkindly 
handled-»but  I  have  not  found  a  word  which  needs  to 
be  blotted  out  ;  not  an  unkind,  unloving,  or  idle  one. 
Yet  he  was  a  most  positive  man  ;  his  sarcasm  was 
absolutely  fearful.  He  could,  as  Bishop  Pierce  says, 
wither  an  offender  like  a  simoon,  with  the  fierceness 
of  his  frown.  Frippery,  religious  dandyism,  cant, 
hypocrisy,  had  no  mercy  at  his  hands.  A  young 
man,  timid  and  embarrassed,  preached  a  sermon  at  his 
instance  in  Oxford  ;  another  young  preacher,  pert, 
flippant,  and  self-conceited,  began  to  ridicule  it.  The 
Bishop  took  him  in  charge.  When  he  got  out  from 
the  Bishop's  hands  he  felt  little  like  criticising  an- 
other. Such  were  some  features  of  his  practical  re- 
ligion. 

His  faith  in  God's  providence  was  simply  unbounded. 
God  was  all  in  all  to  him.    He  did  not  believe  in 


512 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


God — he  absolutely  knew  God  and  Jesus  Christ  whom 
He  had  sent.  In  His  presence  he  walked  and  in  His 
power  and  goodness  he  entirely  confided.  "  God  will 
provide  for  you,"  he  said  to  his  father  and  mother  in 
1 8 17.  ^*  God  will  take  care  of  us,"  he  said  to  his  old 
wife  in  1867.  God  will  overrule  it  all,"  he  said  in 
time  of  darkest  trial.  And  most  wonderfully  was  his 
faith  vindicated.  When  he  sent  up  his  name  to  the 
Conference  for  admission,  he  had  no  horse,  and  no 
money  to  buy  one,  but  when  the  time  came  the  pony 
Cicero  was  at  the  door.  .When  he  was  sent  to  the 
Charleston  District  he  had  no  home  to  shelter  his 
head,  but  the  parsonage  at  Bethel  was  ready  for  him. 
When  he  was  elected  Bishop  the  people  bought  him 
a  home.  When  he  was  without  money  after  the  war, 
we  see  how  God  opened  his  way  to  Texas.  But  one 
of  the  most  extraordinary  events  of  this  kind  occurred 
in  1869.  He  was  out  of  money,  his  wife  sick,  and  he 
himself  not  far  from  his  end.  One  day  he  received  a 
letter  from  a  Southern  man  in  a  Northern  city,  long 
a  resident  in  it  and  at  that  time  a  member  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Conference.  He  told  the  Bishop 
he  had  some  money  for  him,  but  was  not  willing  for 
his  name  to  be  known,  and  requested  him  to  enclose 
his  reply  to  some  friends  in  New  York  who  would 
remail  to  him.  The  Bishop  responded,  and  with  a 
letter  full  of  warm,  affectionate  utterance  he  sent  him 
One  Thousand  Dollars.  The  donor  still  lives,  but  re- 
fuses to  allow  his  name  to  be  given.  The  gift  from 
New  Orleans — the  noble  generosity  of  William  Otis, 
of  Mobile — we  shall  see  further  on.  He  never  turned 
aside  a  moment  to  make  money.  He  lived  by  faith, 
and  his  wants  were  always  suppHed.    His  perfect  dis- 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  513 


regard  of  all  business  rules,  except  those  of  paying 
carefully  all  he  owed,  used  to  astonish  his  friends. 
He  gave  and  gave  until  the  last  penny  was  gone. 
Calls  came  to  him  from  every  direction,  and  he  res- 
ponded to  all,  but  God  always  supplied  his  needs. 

As  he  trusted  in  God  to  provide,  he  submitted  per- 
fectly to  His  will  in  all  things.  Jesus  Christ  was  king. 
He  ruled — it  was  enough.  Smitten,  he  bowed  his 
head,  and  said  :  It  is  the  Lord."  He  buried  his 
children,  his  companions,  his  wife,  saw  disaster  and 
affliction  on  every  side,  bore  the  sorrows  of  children, 
and  said  always,  God  is  good — trust  Him."  One 
of  his  daughters  had  a  lovely  child  who  was  attacked 
by  a  disease  which  threatened  to  go  with  her  through 
life.  God  will  bring  good  out  of  it,"  he  said.  Rush 
was  threatened  with  blindness.  If  it  should  come, 
it  will  be  for  the  best — trust  God."  The  darkest  hour 
was  the  hour  of  his  most  entire  trust  and  his  sweetest 
submission.  Jesus  Christ  is  King,"  was  the  joyful 
confidence  of  all  his  days.  He  received  all  affliction 
as  from  His  hand.  It  was  for  good  — only  good.  No 
adversity  could  affect  this  faith.  It  swept  with  an 
eagle's  wing  above  all  clouds. 

He  was  a  man  of  very  strong  feelings  ;  of  very 
warm  attachments — perhaps  of  as  strong  antipathies. 
He  kept  his  antipathies  subdued,  and  gave  his  attach- 
ments their  full  play.  Self-seeking,  ambition  for  place, 
effeminacy,  excited  his  scorn,  and  he  did  not  fail  to 
express  it  ;  but  toward  the  struggling,  the  feeble,  the 
lowly,  his  love  was  strong  and  tender.  The  negroes 
were  the  objects  of  his  lifelong  care  ;  he  taught  them 
in  Sunday-school  when  a  boy,  he  wrote  for  them  the 
last  article  he  ever  sent  to  the  press.  The  children 
22* 


514 


The  Life  aiid  Letters  of 


were  always  close  to  him.  His  love  for  them  was 
simply  unlimited.    Of  this  more  hereafter. 

His  religious  habits  were  fixed.  He  rose  every 
morning  at  four  o'clock.  To  bed  at  nine,  to  rise  at 
four,  was  his  father's  rule,  and  his  own.  There  was  no 
(greater  privation  to  him  than  to  be  forced  to  remain 
in  bed  after  that  hour.  As  soon  as  he  rose  he  sang 
the  Doxology.  Then  after  dressing  he  knelf  in  pray- 
er. He  prayed  long  and  earnestly,  and  often  audibly, 
for  the  church,  for  his  children  by  name,  for  himself, 
for  all.  He  then  read  the  Bible  till  breakfast.  He 
came  out  of  his  closet  to  the  breakfast-table  as  se- 
rene and  as  cheerful  as  one  could  be.  After  break- 
fast he  retired  for  a  little  while  to  meditate  and  pray. 
At  noonday  he  retired  again  for  prayer.  At  sunset 
he  devoted  quite  a  season  to  this  blessed  exercise,  and 
again  when  he  retired  to  bed.  He  prayed  alway. 
On  his  knees  were  great  callous  places  made  by  con- 
stant kneeling.  He  took  everything  to  God  in  prayer. 
He  asked  for  temporal  blessings  as  well  as  spiritual, 
and  asking  expected. 

He  was  Christlike  in  every  feature,  and  he  came  as 
near  being  perfect  as  any  man  of  whom  I  have  ever 
read.  He  thought  he  was  very  imperfect,  and  when 
one  spoke  of  him,  where  he  could  hear  it,  as  an  old 
saint,  he  turned  away  in  real  disgust  at  what  he  thought 
was  wicked  flattery.  He  was  truly  a  man  of  God, 
obedient,  submissive,  loving,  brave,  generous,  self- 
sacrificing,  tender,  pitiful,  pure,  and  unselfish.  HisHfe 
has  left  its  impress  on  the  church  he  served  as  have  the 
lives  of  few  men.  Enoch  Marvin  said  no  man  had  ever 
so  shaped  his  life  as  James  O.  Andrew,  and  many 
another  brave  man  has  caught  inspiration  from  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


515 


hero-bishop.  Clear-sighted  and  pure-hearted  to  the 
last,  his  counsel  was  sought,  and  I  believe  nearly  al- 
ways regarded.    Bishop  Pierce  says  : 

"  Our  venerable  father,  before  he  had  been  called 
hence,  had  well  nigh  reached  his  fourscore  years, 
beyond  at  least  his  threescore  and  ten.  Converted 
at  ten  years  of  age  he  had  a  long  experience  of  the 
grac^  of  God.  Through  a  protracted  ministry  he 
realized,  by  turns,  the  sorrows  and  victories,  the  hon- 
ors and  disappointments  peculiar  to  a  faithful  preach- 
er's Hfe.  His  religion  was  deep  and  quiet ;  he  was 
never  demonstrative.  He  walked  in  the  light  and 
saw  with  the  eyes  of  that  faith  which  is  the  evidence 
of  things  unseen.  There  never  was  any  chasm  in  his 
itineracy.  He  never  located  or  farmed,  or  pursued 
any  secular  calling.  For  him  to  live  was  Christ.  He 
was  a  man  of  one  business  ;  he  loved  the  Master  and 
the  church,  and  the  work  which  Jesus  had  given  him 
to  do  ;  and  even  on  his  dying  bed,  when  the  check- 
ered past  all  rose  up  before  him  in  solemn  review,  he 
affirmed  that  if  he  could  live  his  life  over  again  he 
would  be  a  Methodist  preacher  still — the  only  change, 
greater  fidelity.  In  the  lapse  of  years  and  the  on- 
coming of  decay  our  beloved  friend  was  no  dotard, 
imagining  himself  strong  and  active  and  capable  as 
ever  ;  but  conscious  of  his  growing  infirmities,  five 
years  ago  he  gracefully  retired  from  the  regular  work  ; 
and  when  the  strong  man  bowed  himself,  and  his  tot- 
terirfg  limbs  could  scarce  bear  the  burden  of  his  failing 
body,  it  was  a  beautiful  thing  to  see  the  old  man  visit 
the  churches  where  he  had  preached  ;  and  as  he  stood 
up,  leaning  upon  his  staff,  talking  to  them  of  Jesus  and 
glory,  and  at  last  shaking  hands  in  sweet  farewell, 


5i6 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


persuaded  that  he  should  see  their  faces  no  more  in  the 
flesh,  and  yet  inviting  them  to  come  on  to  heaven." 
His  hfe-long  friend,  Dr.  Mitchell,  says  : 
*'In  pursuing  farther  the  character  and  memory  of 
the  deceased  Bishop,  I  propose  to  dwell  a  moment  upon 
his  personal  experience  of  grace  and  the  thorough- 
ness of  his  piety  as  a  Christian  in  private  life,  as  well 
as  in  his  intercourse  with  society  in  the  transactic^n  of 
his  worldly  business.  He  knew  the  scriptures  from 
his  youth  ;  was  conscientious  and  prayerful  from  his 
earliest  recollections,  and  being  in  the  midst  of  such 
religious  light,  and  surrounded  with  such  pious  re- 
straints from  his  very  infancy,  I  have  no  idea  that  he 
ever  fell  into  open  sin  at  all ;  and  hence  when  he  made 
a  profession  of  religion  there  was  very  little  change  in 
his  outward  deportment,  and  these  things  help  to 
account  for  the  fact  that  in  tracing  his  religious 
experience  he  never  went  back  to  the  precise  time 
and  place  of  his  conversion.  But  he  soon  learned 
to  estimate  his  religion  not  by  his  feelings  but  by 
his  faith.  His  communion  with  God  was  constant  and 
intimate.  His  early  religious  habits  were  formed 
in  those  days  when  it  was  the  custom  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  church  to  pray  regularly  in  secret  at  least 
as  often  as  they  ate,  and  especially  at  the  hour  of 
twilight  in  the  evening,  and  on  the  part  of  our  wor- 
thy Bishop  nothing  was  allowed  to  interfere  with  these 
sacred  hours  of  communion  with  God.  Often  have  I 
seen  him  break  off  from  business  and  company  for 
retirement  and  prayer.  And  in  addition  to  these 
stated  hours  of  communion  with  God,  I  have  fre- 
quently known  him,  at  the  dark  hour  of  midnight,  rise 
and  kneel  by  his  bedside  in  earnest,  fervent  prayer. 


James  Osgood  Andreiv.   .  5^7 

As  might  be  expected  from  such  habits,  his  piety  was 
characterized  by  cheerfulness  and  constancy.  As  a 
Christian  his  ecstasies  never  rose  very  high  ;  and  on 
the  other  hand,  never  did  I  know  him  to  fall  into  de- 
spondency. 

Dr.  Andrews,  who  was  with  him  at  the  last,  says 
very  touchingly  : 

"  His  religion  was  genuine  and  pure.  His  sainted 
mother  taught  him  to  read  the  word  of  God  and  pray. 
From  his  cradle  he  imbibed  from  her  sentiments  of 
truth  and  pjety.  The  more  he  followed  her  advice 
and  example  the  stronger  did  his  faith  become.  He 
tested  all  the  promises  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  and 
found  them  to  be  yea  and  amen.  While  yet  a  youth 
he  was  called  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  When  the 
voice  of  God  reached  him  he  *  conferred  not  with 
flesh  and  blood/  but  was  *  obedient  to  the  heavenly 
calling.'  He  was  poor,  and  the  Methodist  itineracy 
held  out  to  him  no  moneyed  inducements,  but  the  course 
of  duty  was  plain  and  he  followed  it.  In  subsequent 
life,  as  he  .grew  beyond  the  early  hopes  of  himself  and 
friends,  munificent  offers  were  made  to  him,  such  as 
would  have  led  to  ample  provision  for  himself  and 
family,  but  he  would  not  receive  them  ;  he  dared  not 
trifle  with  the  vows  that  he  had  made  by  entangling 
himself  in  worldly  business.  His  work  was  to  preach 
the  gospel,  and  to  this  he  devoted  all  his  time  and  re- 
sources. He  spent  his  whole  life  in  teaching  others 
how  to  find  the  same  precious  faith  with  which  he  was 
blessed.  He  believed  that  God  would  take  care  of 
his  family  and  sustain  him  if  he  continued  faithful,  and 
he  lived  up  to  his  convictions  of  truth  and  duty. 

His  head  did  not  grow  dizzy  when  greatness  was 


5i8 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


attained,  nor  did  his  brain  reel  when  he  was  placed  in 
the  highest  office  of  the  church.  He  did  not  lose  the 
Christian  in  the  minister.  His  heart  was  ever  pure, 
his  eye  single,  and  his  life  '  liid  with  Christ  in  God.* 
He  could  say,  in  the  midst  of  his  greatest  successes  and 
fame,  *  For  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain.' 
He  read  his  Bible,  fasted  and  prayed.  The  vestal  fires 
of  love  and  gratitude  to  God,  kindled  upon  the  altar 
of  his  youthful  heart,  never  went  out.  They  were  fed 
daily  with  fresh  fuel,  and  went  on  with  increasing 
flame  until  quenched  in  the  cold  waters  of  death. 
During  his  latter  years,  as  the  infirmities  of  age  came 
over  him,  his  habit  was  to  pray  early.  At  four  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  he  awoke 
and  began  his  devotions.  On  my  way  from  the  late 
General  Conference,  held  in  the  city  of  Memphis,  it 
was  my  privilege  to  be  with  him.  We  spent  the  night 
together  at  Corinth,  occupying  the  same  room.  I  was 
aroused  from  sleep  in  the  morning  by  the  voice  of  ' 
prayer — the  good  Bishop,  the  Christian  father  and  the 
aged  patriarch  was  on  his  knees  before  God  !  His 
supplications  on  these  occasions  often  became  deep 
and  earnest.  He  would  forget  where  he  was  and  pray 
aloud,  his  pathetic  pleadings  becoming  audible  in 
every  apartment  of  the  house  !  Those  whose  privil- 
ege it  was  to  entertain  him  knew  his  habits  of  this 
kind.  On  the  morning  that  he  was  attacked  by  the 
fatal  disease  that  carried  him  away,  he  was  heard  to 
groan  in  his  bed  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Dr.  Moss  and  his  wife,  in  whose  house  the  Bishop  was 
lodging  in  New  Orleans,  supposed  that  he  was  pray- 
ing. But  his  groans  continuing,  the  doctor,  fearing 
something  unusual  had  taken  place,  went  into  his  room 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


519 


and  found  him  fatally  ill  !  The  first  premonition  of 
death  that  our  beloved  father  had  was  that  he  could 
not  rise  and  kneel  before  God  as  usual.  I  often 
prayed  with  him  during  his  sickness — found  him  ever 
devout,  his  mind  clear,  and  his  heart  perfectly  stayed 
upon  God  in  Christ.  I  shall  never  forget  his  hearty 
responses  and  the  willing  tones  of  his  voice,  powerful 
and  musical  to  the  last  !  When  the  summons  came 
he  was  ready.  When  told  that  he  must  die,  he  re- 
plied :  *  God  knows  best ! '  " 

The  following  tribute  is  from  Bishop  Pierce,  Avho 
knew  him  and  loved  him  as  few  men  could.  Much 
that  he  says  here  he  has  given  us  in  the  memorial 
sermons,  but  it  is  best  that  the  tribute  he  pays  should 
appear,  as  he  gives  it.    Bishop  Pierce  says  : 

**The  biographer  of  Bishop  Andrew  asks  me  for 
my  recollections  of  him,  and  in  response  I  give  this 
brief  account  : 

"  I  was  yet  in  my  teens — a  mere  boy — when  I  first 
saw  James  O.  Andrew.  He  was  then  in  the  prime  of 
life,  and  at  the  zenith  of  his  power  and  popularity  as 
a  preacher.  He  took  rank  with  William  Capers,  then 
considered  the  most  eloquent  and  finished  orator  in 
the  land,  either  South  or  North,  and  with  Stephen 
Olin,  who  had  then  just  burst  in  all  the  splendor  of  his 
genius  upon  public  admiration.  I  say  nothing  of  my 
father,  who,  by  common  consent,  stood  abreast  with 
this  trio  of  great  preachers.  But  of  the  three — Capers, 
Olin,  and  Andrew — it  is  proper  to  say  they  were  fine 
specimens  of  that  diversity  of  gifts  with  which  God 
endows  his  ministers,  and  each  illustrated  a  kindred 
diversity  in  the  taste  of  the  Church  and  the  people. 
They  were  very  unlike,  but  each  distinguished  after 


520 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


his  kind.  Capers  was  a  cultivated  man,  refined  by 
the  associations  of  his  early  life,  and  educated  up  to 
the  popular  standard  of  his  time,  but  never  remark- 
able for  his  scholarship.  His  gentlemanly  instiflcts, 
his  keen  sense  of  propriety,  and  his  belles-lettres  train- 
ing, combined  with  his.  wonderful  facility  of  speech 
and  his  active,  fertile  intellect,  all  concurred  to  make 
him  a  most  charming  talker,  and  an  eloquent,  pathetic 
preacher.    His  voice  was  an  instrument  of  music. 

"  Besides  a  native  mind,  vast,  grand,  thoroughly 
trained,  Olin  had  no  special  attractions.  Of  huge  frame, 
an  ungainly  person,  a  voice  without  compass  or  melody, 
intensely  awkward  in  movement, ^yet  he  was  the  most 
impressive,  overwhelming  speaker  I  ever  heard.  A 
sermon  from  his  lips  was  a  Niagara  of  thought,  and 
his  emotional  power  corresponded  with  the  breadth 
and  rush  of  his  ideas.  Verily,  he  was  a  man  of  power. 

"  Andrew  had  no  early  advantages.  His  education 
was  scanty — very  imperfect ;  his  reading  limited  to 
the  library  of  a  poor,  local  preacher.  His  father, 
though  one  of  the  best  of  men,  was  of  ordinary  in- 
tellect, and,  while  a  schoolmaster,  had  very  little 
learning.  His  mother  was  a  very  superior  woman, 
and  to  her  he  was  greatly  indebted  for  the  inspiration 
which  vitalized  his  early  mental  efforts.  His  begin- 
ning as  a  preacher  was  lame  and  unpromising,  but  his 
outcome  was  rapid.  The  man  in  him  soon  appeared. 
When  I  first  knew  him  he  was  fully  developed  and 
ranked  with  the  men  I  have  mentioned.  He  was  of 
medium  stature,  full-fleshed,  careless  in  dress  and 
manner,  his  features  large  and  coarse,  a  well-formed 
head,  a  voice,  clear,  strong,  enduring,  not  much  vari- 
ety in  modulation,  yet  far  from  monotonous  in  tone. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


521 


He  had  very  little  action  in  speaking,  rarely  gestured, 
and  seemed  to  rely  for  impression  upon  thought,  emo- 
tion, and  cadence.  His  conceptions  were  grand.  His 
sentences  Chalmerian  in  their  swell  and  fullness.  His 
wealth  of  language  was  marvelous.  It  was  easy  for  an 
auditor  to  follow  him.  The  simple  could  comprehend 
him,  his  thoughts  were  so  luminous,  his  words  so  apt 
and  perspicuous.  A  Sunday  sermon  from  him  at  one 
of  the  great  camp  meetings,  when  the  immense  crowd 
sat  awe-struck,  spellbound  for  two  hours,  was  an  occa- 
sion never  to  be  forgotten.  His  mind  swept  on  impe- 
rial wing  over  vast  fields  of  thought,  and  the  awful  veri- 
ties of  revelation  seemed  living,  visible  realities  to  the 
hushed  and  weeping  multitude.  Many  scenes  of  pre- 
cious memory  occur  to  me  as  I  write  these  hasty  lines. 

In  1 83 1,  James  O.  Andrew  was  stationed  in  Au- 
gusta. His  ministry  was  greatly  blessed.  There  was 
a  revival  and  a  mighty  ingathering.  He  was  im- 
mensely popular — an  universal  favorite.  During  the 
autumnal  months  he  had  a  bilious  attack  followed  by 
chill  and  fever,  which  greatly  enfeebled  him.  The 
Church  was  very  anxious  for  his  return.  The  Bishop 
was  disposed  to  send  him  back,  but  on  consultation, 
on  account  of  his  feeble  health,  he  declined  unless  the 
Bishop  would  give  him  an  assistant.  This  it  was  de- 
termined to  do.  So  J.  O.  Andrew  and  G.  F.  Pierce 
were  sent  to  Augusta.  This  arrangement  brought  me 
into  intimate  acquaintance  and  close  fellowship  with 
my  colleague.  I  lived  in  his  family,  and  we  were  as- 
sociated in  all  the  labors  and  services  of  the  station. 
We  had  charge  of  both  the  white  and  colored  con- 
gregations. This  was  then  the  order  of  the  day.  The 
congregations  worshiped  together  in  all  the  more 


522  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

public  services.  The  social  meetings  were  usually- 
separate.  So  we  had  our  hands  full — four  sermons  a 
week,  prayer-;iieetings,  class-meetings,  and  pastoral 
visiting  among  a  large  and  scattered  membership. 

"  During  the  year,  in  the  month  of  May,  J.  O.  An- 
drew was  elected  Bishop.  This  to  him  was  a  surprise 
and  a  cross.  While  it  threw  on  me  a  heavy  responsibil- 
ity, to  me  it  was  a  relief,  because  it  saved  me  from  the 
embarrassment  of  preaching  alternately  to  the  same  con- 
gregation, with  one  of  the  foremost  men  of  the  Church. 
I  will  say  right  here  that  Bishop  Andrew  entered  upon 
the  work  of  his  office  with  fear  and  trembling.  He 
had  great  distrust  of  himself,  and  down  to  the  time  of 
his  retirement  felt  himself  a  burdened  man. 

But  I  anticipate.  In  his  family  Bishop  Andrew 
was  a  model  of  tenderness  and  love.  He  maintained 
his  authority  over  his  children  not  so  much  by  force 
of  command  or  fear  of  punishment  as  by  the  reverence 
and  affection  he  inspired.  His  wife  was  a  woman  of 
superior  sense,  of  great  tact  and  unwearied  energy, 
and  they  harmonized  in  family  government.  Peace 
and  concord  reigned  in  the  household.  The  morning 
and  evening  devotions  were  solemn,  lively,  spiritual. 
The  Bible  lesson  was  read,  an  hymn  was  sung,  and 
then  prayer.  And  such  prayers  !  In  devotion  he  was 
eminently  gifted.  Rich,  tender,  varied,  they  were 
full  of  instruction  of  childlike  confidence  and  the  pious 
breathings  of  an  earnest  soul. 

"  In  all  the  routine  work  of  a  preacher  Bishop  An- 
drew was  prompt,  regular,  uniform.  He  was  always 
ready,  but  when  or  how  he  prepared  I  never  knew. 
His  mental  habits  were  peculiar  to  himself.  They 
seemed  to  me  to  be  desultory — without  specific  meth- 


y antes  Osgood  Andreiv, 


523 


od.  He  read  a  great  deal,  and  read  well-chosen 
books  ;  but,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  he  read  rather  to 
gratify  his  taste  than  to  enrich  his  mind — rather  to 
keep  up  his  mental  activity  by  attention  to  the  thoughts 
of  others,  than  to  elaborate  them  out  of  his  own  re- 
sources by  slow,  painstaking  processes.  He  never 
used  the  pen.  He  never  borrowed.  While  he  was 
not  strikingly  original,  he  was  wholly  independent. 
His  methods  were  his  own.  He  read  much,  thought 
much,  but  in  a  general  way.  He  kept  his  mind  full, 
not  for  a  special  subject,  but  for  any  and  every  occa- 
sion. He  did  not  trouble  himself  about  exegesis. 
His  preaching  was  not  expository.  All  he  wanted  was 
one  great  idea,  capable  of  paraphrase  and  expansion. 
He  could  amplify  amazingly  without  repetition.  In  his 
prime  he  never  wearied  his  hearers  with  platitudes. 
His  utterances  were  vital,  fresh — never  musty  or  insipid. 

Unfettered  by  plans  or  forms,  he  never  repeated 
himself,  or,  if  he  did,  he  never  knew  it,  nor  did  his 
hearers  ever  find  it  out.  Some  of  his  grandest  efforts 
wer^made  in  prayer-meetings,  or  in  Wednesday  night 
sermons,  when  the  audience  was  small,  and  nothing 
outward  to  excite  him.  When  the  afflatus  was  upon 
him,  he  poured  out  his  soul  in  thoughts  that  breathe 
and  words  that  burn.  It  never  seemed  to  occur  to 
him  that  such  magnificent  views  ought  to  be  reserved 
for  the  great  congregation.  He  lavished  them  upon 
the  faithful  few  in  unstinted  measure.  He  felt  that 
these  inspirations  were  spiritual,  given  for  the  occa- 
sion, and  not  to  be  suppressed  for  any  prudential 
consideration.  He  spoke  as  the  Spirit  gave  him  ut- 
terance. When  God  unsealed  the  fountains  of  thought 
and  feeling  he  let  the  waters  flow,  whether  they  were 


524 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


to  irrigate  a  garden  or  a  field.  The  most  awful,  start- 
ling, soul-awakening  discourse  I  ever  heard  from  him 
was  delivered  on  a  week  night  to  a  very  thin  audience, 
from  the  text,  'Thou  God  seest  me.'  It  was  full  of 
truth  and  power.  When  he  spoke  of  the  inquisition 
of  God  into  human  conduct,  and  of  the  wrath  revealed 
from  heaven  against  all  ungodliness  and  unrighteous- 
ness, the  bolts  fell  so  thick  and  fast  that  I  instinctively 
drew  myself  into  the  smallest  possible  compass,  lest  I 
should  be  struck  along  with  others.  The  crowd  was 
small  and  the  distribution  large.  Every  man  got  his 
portion. 

As  a  pastor, he  gave  special  attention  to  the  poor.. 
The  sick,  the  humble,  the  obscure  shared  largely  in 
his  sympathies  and  services.  To  the  upper  strata  of 
society — the  rich,  polite,  refined — he  gave  but  little  of 
his  time  or  labor.  The  artificial  forms,  the  heartless 
etiquette  of  society,  he  could  not  tolerate.  Free, 
natural,  easy  himself,  respectful  to  all,  and  courteous 
under  the  impulse  of  love  and  good-will,  he  chafed 
under  the  arbitrary  exactions  of  fashion.  The  trufh  is, 
the  Bishop  loved  his  ease,  and  liked  to  enjoy  himself  in 
his  own  way.  But  he  illustrated  pure  and  undefiled 
religion  by  visiting  the  fatherless  and  widows  in  their 
affliction.  Like  Barnabas,  he  was  a  good  man  and 
full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  faith. 

"  It  is  worthy  of  mention  that  while  the  great  men 
of  whom  I  have  written  might  have  been,  by  the 
thoughtless,  considered  rivals,  they  never  so  under- 
stood it  or  felt  it.  They  rejoiced  in  each  other. 
There  was  no  envy  or  jealousy  among  them.  Their 
friendship  was  sincere  and  abiding.  It  was  my  privi- 
lege to  be  familiar  with  their  correspondence  and  their 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


525 


social  life.  They  were  all  fine  talkers,  gifted  in  repar- 
tee, abounding  in  original  humor,  not  much  on  anec- 
dotes— all  sprightly,  cheerful,  and  fond  of  a  hearty 
laugh.  But  they  never  compromised  their  ministerial 
dignity.  All  was  chaste,  pure,  exalted,  and  refining. 
From  one  of  their  lively  conversations  they  might 
have  gone  into  the  services  of  the  sanctuary,  without 
being  conscious  of  any  discrepancy  between  the  play- 
fulness of  their  brotherly  intercourse  and  the  gravity 
of  their  ministerial  duties. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  Bishop  Andrew  declined 
as  a  preacher  after  his  election  to  the  Episcopacy.  He 
was  burdened  with  care  and  responsibility  ;  his  habits 
of  study  were  broken  up  ;  his  pastoral  relations  were 
too  general  to  be  intensely  realized  ;  the  tension  of 
his  mind  was  relaxed,  and  withal  he  conceived  the 
idea  that  as  a  Bishop  he  must  be  an  example  of  ex- 
treme simplicity  in  style,  and  so  he  let  down  from  the 
grand  to  the  colloquial.  Hence  his  mind  did  not  act 
normally,  and  he  was  feeble  as  compared  with  his 
forn^er  self.  Moreover  time,  age,  and  labor  under- 
mined his  muscular  vigor.  In  his  palmiest  days 
weariness  enfeebled  his  mental  action.  Bishop  An- 
drew grew  prematurely  old.  As  the  infirmities  of 
age  began  to  be  felt,  he  surrendered  to  the  idea  that 
he  was  old  and  must  needs  be  inefficient.  Hence  at 
seventy  he  asked  the  General  Conference  to  retire 
him.  His  power  to  resist  physical  infirmity  was  gone 
with  this  conclusion,  and  the  last  years  of  his  life  were 
years  of  weakness  and  almost  without  effort,  save  in 
Sunday-school  talks  to  children.  At  last  he  was 
gathered  '  as  a  shock  of  corn  ripe  in  its  season,'  and 
left  few  if  any  better  men  behind  him." 


526  The  Life  and  Letters  of 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AT  THE  CLOSE. 
I 866-1 87 I. 

HE  returned  home  from  the  General  Conference 
of  1866  after  the  conchision  of  its  session. 
The  changes  introduced  by  the  new  laws  were 
many,  and  some  of  them  radical.  Lay  delegation  was 
brought  in  ;  class-meetings  were  no  longer  a  test  of 
membership  ;  the  probation  system  was  overturned  ; 
a  ritual  was  provided  for  ;  the  name  of  the  Church 
was  changed  so  far  as  the  General  Conference  could 
change  it,  and  the  pastoral  term  was  extended  to  four 
years.  That  this  wholesale  legislation  met  the  Bish- 
op's idea  of  what  ought  to  have  been  done,  I  cannot 
say,  but  he  had  long  been  of  opinion  that  the  inner 
life  of  the  Church  was  worth  much,  the  outer  form  of 
but  little  value. 

The  Church  Treasury  was  empty,  the  Book  Con- 
cern was  to  be  put  on  its  feet,  the  Missionary  Treas- 
ury to  be  replenished,  and  the  large  debt  to  be  paid. 
Churches  which  were  yet  in  the  hands  of  those  to 
whom  they  had  been  committed  by  military  order, 
were  to  be  recovered.  The  altar  against  altar  was 
now  all  over  the  land.  Then,  too,  the  reconstruction 
acts  were  passed  ;  all  Southern  State  Government  was 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


527 


overturned  and  the  military  rule  supreme.  In  this 
hour  more  than  one  heart  quailed,  and  more  than  one 
despaired  of  the  future  of  the  Church,  but  the  brave 
old  Bishop  and  his  colleagues  never  flinched.  They 
advised  the  people  to  have  confidence  and  trust  in 
God,  and  to  give  steadfast  adherence  to  the  princi- 
ples of  right. 

The  Bishop  was  now  seventy-two  years  old.  His 
mind  was  clear,  and  he  talked  and  wrote  with  the 
force  of  years  gone  by  ;  his  han(j^was  too  tremulous  to 
write  long  at  a  time,  but  he  still  used  his  pen  con- 
stantly. 

He  was  now  relieved  of  the  burdens  of  official  posi- 
tion and  for  the  first  time  since  1832,  now  nearly  forty 
years,  he  had  something  like  rest. 

These  were  days  of  fierce  strife,  the  noise  of  bat- 
tle-fields gave  way,  but  there  was  even  between  good 
men  bitter  contentions.  The  newspapers  were  full 
of  bitter  strife,  and  the  war  of  words  was  fierce,  but 
amid  it  all  the  saintly  old  man  possessed  his  soul  of 
peace.    Mr.  Rush  says  : 

But  having  determined  that  his  old  age  should 
not  be  burdened  with  repentances  over  improper 
words  and  bitter  feelings,  he  permitted  none  of  these 
things  to  move  him.  His  nature  seemed  to  have  been 
so  perfectly  freed  from  the  '  dirt  and  mire  '  of  sin,  that 
nothing  he  saw  or  heard  was  able  to  taint  or  discolor 
the  pure  stream  of  love  that  constantly  flowed  from 
his  heart  in  words  and  actions.  He  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  speak  evil  of  magistrates  and  ministers.  He 
would  not  return  raiUng  for  railing.  He  would  de- 
nounce sins,  but  not  sinners — for  them  he  prayed. 
Sometimes  a  bitter  newspaper  article  directed  against 


528 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


himself  would  find  its  way  to  his  home  and  stir  the 
indignation  and  anger  of  his  family.  But  gently  re- 
buking such  feelings,  he  invariably  forbade  all  harsh 
criticism  of  personal  character,  saying  that  many  of 
these  things  were  said  in  the  spirit  of  partisanship, 
and  many  of  the  men  who  wrote  thus  honestly  be- 
lieved what  they  wrote,  and  that  he  confidently  ex- 
pected to  greet  many  of  them  before  long  in  heaven. 
And  as  for  the  misrule  and  wrong  that  marked  the 
times,  he  said  God  w^uld  overrule  all  that  for  his  own 
glory.  That  the  wrath  of  man  should  in  some  way 
be  made  to  praise  Him  ;  and  that  it  was  neither  good 
nor  profitable  for  him  or  any  one  else  to  fret  him- 
self because  of  evil-doers.  His  name  among  his 
neighbors  was  the  synonym  of  goodness  and  gen- 
tleness. 

"  It  was  also  necessary  for  him  to  settle  upon,  a  line 
of  Christian  work  suited  to  his  new  relation  and  in- 
creasing infirmities.  Fifty  years  of  active  ministerial 
service  had  fixed  mental  and  bodily  habits  that  could 
not  be  laid  aside  at  once,  had  it  been  desirable  to  do 
so.  Consequently,  he  was  more  than  willing,  as  the 
General  Conference  had  requested,  as  occasions  arose, 
and  his  health  permitted,  to  visit  Annual,  District, 
and  Quarterly  Conferences,  and  local  churches.  At 
these  places  he  performed  with  cheerfulness  such  pul- 
pit and  other  work  as  he  was  able,  frequently  going 
beyond  his  real  strength.  In  1867  there  was  a  great 
abatement  of  physical  power.  It  was  often  with  dif- 
ficulty that  he  walked  about  the  yard.  The  standing 
position  in  preaching  very  much  wearied  his  lower 
limbs,  and  the  mental  efifort  made  while  in  this  posi- 
tion reacted  with  greater  force  on  his  physical  system, 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


529 


usually  arousing  the  old  trouble  to  violence.  For 
this  reason  he  frequently  assumed  the  sitting  position 
while  preaching.  But  disliking  this  posture,  and  be- 
ing unable  now  to  think  over  his  sermons  before 
preaching  them,  except  at  the  peril  of  an  attack,  he 
decided  to  abandon  regular  sermons  and  simply  to 
talk  in  the  church.  He  realized  fully  the  difference 
between  these  simple  talks  and  the  attractiveness  and 
power  of  his  sermons  of  other  years,  and  was  also 
aware  that  his  old  friends  were  sometimes  mortified 
at  the  difference.  But  he  had  outlived  all  ministerial 
pride,  and  in  his  own  heart  there  was  no  such  feeling 
of  mortified  vanity.  This  was  all  he  could  now  do 
for  the  Master,  and  these  simple  talks  were  spoken 
with  as  deep  personal  comfort  as  he  ever  experienced 
in  preaching  great  sermons  to  admiring  thousands. 

"  He  was  exceedingly  fond  of  little  children  ;  their 
bright  little  faces  always  charmed  him.  Hence,  he 
visited  the  Sunday-schools  wherever  he  went.  The 
children  delighted  to  listen  to  his  talks,  which  he  al- 
ways concluded,  first,  by  asking  them  to  pray  for  him, 
and  secondly,  by  giving  them  his  solemn  *  God  bless 
you  all.'  Hundreds  of  these  little  hearts  were  praying 
for  him  during  his  last  illness.  The  class-meeting 
was  also  a  place  of  great  pleasure.  There  he  could 
sit  and  tell  of  the  grace  of  God  in  his  own  experience, 
and  of  his  bright  hopes  of  immortal  life  in  the  very 
near  future,  and  listen  with  pleasure  to  others'  stories 
of  conflict  and  victory.  At  home  he  read  a  great 
deal.  The  Bible,  of  course,  was  his  favorite  book. 
He  nearly  always  read  from  the  same  copy.  He 
loved  the  Advocates^  and  especially  the  obituary 
columns.  Reading  was  a  kind  of  passion  with  him. 
23 


530 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


He  read  from  habit  as  a  pastime,  very  rapidly,  without 
much  study  -read  everything  that  was  pure  and  not 
too  heavy.  But  his  chiefest  dehght,  his  most  con- 
stant, unfailing  pleasure  was  prayer,  and  when  at 
home  it  v/as  his  prhicipal  employment.  Everything 
was  the  subject  of  prayer.  Whatever  concerned  him, 
he  said,  concerned  his  Heavenly  Father  also,  and  he 
would  tell  Him  about  it.  Praying  was  not  so  much 
an  act  of  mere  petition  as  it  was  an  act  of  free  com- 
munion, as  one  friend  unrestrainedly  communes  with 
another,  or  as  a  child  tells  its  parent  all  that  is  in  its 
heart.  He  literally  talked  to  God,  and  it  did  seem 
that  God  talked  back  to  him,  and  they  two  were  con- 
versing thus  all  the  time. 

"  Mrs.  Andrew  was  a  woman  of  queenly  majesty  of 
both  mind  and  body.  She  was  a  model  housekeeper, 
exact  in  time,  elegant  in  appointments,  eminently 
practical  in  management.  She  was  a  woman,  too,  of 
mighty  faith  in  God,  and  of  great  religious  character. 
They  were  devoted  to  each  other  as  husband  and 
wife.  One  rarely  entered  a  sweeter  or  better  regu- 
lated home  than  theirs.  Everything  so  comfortable 
and  so  neat — the  conversation  so  cheerful,  unrestrained, 
intelligent,  and  pure,  and  withal,  such  a  constant 
brooding  presence  of  the  Divine  Spirit  ser^ibly  over 
all.  Drs.  Hamilton  and  Cotton,  and  others  of  like 
mind  and  heart,  feeling  all  this,  used  to  say  '  it  was 
good  to  be  there.'  In  the  autumn  of  1868,  Mrs.  An- 
drew fell  violently  ill  with  typhoid  pneumonia,  which 
for  months  held  her  life  in  doubtful  suspense,  and 
finally  left  her  with  very  bad  effects  upon  the  brain. 
The  next  year,  at  the  same  season,  she  had  another 
attack  of  similar  violence,  and  it  seemed  that  it  would 


James  Osgood  Andrezv. 


531 


have  been  better  had  her  earthly  Hfe  terminated  with 
it.  But  God  saw  fit  to  decide  otherwise.  When  this 
sickness  left  her,  the  brain  was  in  a  condition  so  soft 
as  to  be  unable  thereafter,  in  any  proper  manner,  to 
perform  its  natural  functions.  She  retained  only  the 
knowledge  of  the  Saviour,  and  had  the  power  of  co- 
herent thought  and  expression  only  on  the  subject  of 
her  relations  with  Christ.  It  was  a  very  remarkable  case. 
She  spoke  of  Jesus  as  sweetly  and  prayed  to  him  as 
beautifully  as  she  had  ever  done.  Her  bodily  strength 
in  a  measure  returned,  but  instead  of  being  to  her 
husband  the  unfailing  source  of  comfort  and  strength 
she  had  hitherto  been,  she  was  thenceforward  the  in- 
nocent cause  of  his  greatest  earthly  care  and  sorrow. 
No  greater  trial  could  befall  an  affectionate  husband 
than  to  look  daily  upon  the  Hving  wreck  of  so  splendid 
a  woman,  so  devoted  a  wife.  Yet  he  bore  even  this 
with  the  cheerful  fortitude  and  unmurmuring  patience 
of  ripened  Christian  faith.  No  word  of  complaint 
ever  fell  from  his  lips.  No  dark  doubt  of  God's  wis- 
dom and  goodness  ever  shaded  his  soul.  In  his  last 
will  are  these  sentences :  *  I  here  wish  to  record  my 
sincere  appreciation  of  the  constant  love  and  un- 
wearied devotion  of  my  beloved  wife  to  myself,  and 
of  her  uniform  kindness  to  my  children.  To  me  she 
has  been  a  good  wife  ;  to  them  a  good  mother ;  and 
I  trust  they  will  do  all  they  can  to  make  her  comfort- 
able and  happy  until  God  shall  call  her  to  himself.' 
This  calamity  kept  the  Bishop  at  home  more  than  was 
good  for  his  health,  for  traveling  had  become  almost 
a  necessity.!' 

This  is  a  touching  picture  of  the  manner  in  which 
these  years  sped  by.     He  was  nearing  the  end  very 


532 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


fast ;  getting  more  and  more  feeble  every  day.  He 
had  now  lived  longer  than  his  father  had,  and  felt  more 
and  more  that  his  days  on  earth  were  drawing  rapidly 
to  an  end,  but  he  did  not,  though  so  feeble  and  so 
incapacitated  for  effective  labor,  cease  to  work.  In 
the  spring  of  1867  he  went  to  Louisville,  and  thence 
to  St.  Louis.  The  old  Bishop  was  seeking  food  for 
the  needy  ones  in  famine-threatened  Alabama.  He 
writes  to  his  wife  from  St.  Louis  : 

"St.  Louis,  May  6,  1867. 

My  Own  Precious  Wife  : 

"  I  this  morning  received  your  letter.  You  did  not 
direct  it  in  anybody's  care,  and  it  had  been  placed 
among  the  advertized  letters,  which  is  the  reason  I 
did  not  get  it  sooner  ;  it  should  have  been  directed  to 
the  care  of  P.  M.  Pinkard.  I  received  Sallie's  letter 
last  week,  and  was  grateful  for  it.  I  had  mailed  one 
to  her  before  I  received  hers,  but  will  answer  it  shortly. 
Jimmy  has  not  written  me  at  all.  I  am  not  conscious 
of  having  written  anything  to  discourage  him.  I 
wrote  to  him  on  my  birthday  ;  hope  that  both  he  and 
Sallie  got  my  letters,  and  will  answer  them  shortly. 
I  wrote  you  from  Meridian,  and  twice  or  thrice  from 
Nashville,  and  the  same  from  Louisville.  I  think 
L  am  doing  good  here.  I  made  arrangements  to 
get  some  corn  in  Louisville,  and  have  the  promise 
here  of  two  hundred  bushels  of  corn,  which  will  be 
shipped  shortly.  I  think,  too,  I  will  get  some  hay 
and  meat  here,  and  have  them  all  shipped  together. 
I  hope  to  give  Jimmie  some  corn  and  hay  if  I  succeed 
in  my  plans.  I  am  kept  busy  here  preaching  and  vis- 
iting.   The  friends  here  have  received  me  as  a  mes- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


533 


senger  from  God,  and  they  say,  *  the  longer  you  remain 
here,  the  more  corn  you  will  get.'  Now,  I  am  re- 
solved not  to  leave  this  country  till  my  provision  ar- 
rangements are  complete  ;  this  has  already  detained 
me  here  longer  than  I  expected,  and  may  detain  me 
a  week  longer,  but  I  long  to  see  my  happy  home  and 
the  loved  ones  there,  and  my  present  purpose  is  to 
leave  for  home  early  next  week,  but  I  will  let  you 
know  before  I  start.  I  preached  yesterday  to  a  large" 
congregation  in  a  spacious  and  elegant  church.  We 
had  considerable  feeling,  and  at  the  close  an  old  fash- 
ioned shout.  In  the  afternoon  I  attended  a  general 
class-meeting ;  we  had  a  good  meeting ;  much  talk 
about  sanctification.  Oh,  how  I  wished  for  you.  I 
know  you  would  have  enjoyed  it  so  much,  and  I 
should  have  greatly  enjoyed  the  sound  of  your  voice, 
mingling  with  many  others,  in  praising  God,  and  talk- 
ing of  His  goodness.  I  think  there  is  a  good  deal 
more  piety  here  than  in  the  churches  of  Alabama. 
Class-meetings  are  held  here,  as  of  old,  and  our 
people,  most  of  them,  are  neither  afraid  to  say 
Amen,  nor  to  shout  the  praises  of  God.  Well,  I 
must  quit  now.  May  God  have  you  in  His  holy 
keeping." 

There  were  terrible  days  in  Alabama.  So  black, 
so  horrible,  that  the  tale  of  what  they  were  will  hardly 
ever  be  fully  told.  A  war  of  races  would  have  been 
upon  the  land  save  that  the  weaker,  but  more  daring, 
race  was  already  worn  down  with  years  of  weary  war 
and  the  ruling  spirits  were  ruled  by  God.  In  the 
midst  of  all  the  old  man  went  on  his  way,  but  we  can 
get  a  glimpse  of  those  days  from  the  letter  which  he 
wrote  to  his  son-in-law,  from  Mobile,  in  1868  : 


534  The  Life  and  Letters  of 

*' Mobile,  Ala.,  February  22,  1868. 

My  Dear  Wesley: 

"Several  days  before  I  left  Summer  field  I  re- 
ceived your  affectionate  epistle,  but  as  I  was  on  the 
eve  of  starting  for  this  place  I  concluded  to  wait, 
and  answer  after  reaching  Mobile.  I  have  been  here 
rather  more  than  a  week.  I  have  been  cordially  re- 
ceived by  the  good  people,  and  hope  that  my  visit 
here  will  not  be  altogether  useless.  My  health  is  not 
entirely  good.  I  have  been,  for  a  day  or  two,  labor- 
ing under  a  severe  cold — was  so  hoarse  yesterday 
that  I  could  scarcely  talk,  and  feared  that  I  should 
not  be  able  to  fill  my  appointment  at  church  on  Sun- 
day ;  but  I  feel  rather  better  to-day,  and  hope  I  shall 
be  able  to  fill  my  appointment.  We  have  heard  that 
the  negroes  have  threatened  to  lay  Marion  in  ashes. 
I  hope  that  there  is  no  cause  for  the  alarm,  though 
the  state  of  matters  in  the  country  will  lay  us  pecu- 
liarly liable  to  have  such  reports  and  to  believe  them. 
God  have  mercy  upon  us  and  save  us  in  these  days 
of  threatening  peril.  I  fear  that  our  Congressional 
rulers,  with  their  deviltry,  will  get  up  war  and  blood- 
shed. 

"I  almost  wish  that  I  was  in  California  now, 
and  I  think  I  should  go  if  I  had  the  money.  But 
Providence  does  not  seem  to  open  my  way  to  go 
there,  as  it  has  not  furnished  me  with  the  means  to  go. 
I  think  if  I  ever  get  the  means  I  shall  go  there,  and 
then,  of  course,  I  should  greatly  desire  that  my  chil- 
dren should  go  with  me.  I  had  some  thought  of 
going  to  New  Orleans,  but  don't  know  whether  I 
shall  go  or  not.  I  shall  probably  decide  by  . Monday, 
when  I  shall  finish  this  letter. 


r 

James  Osgood  Andrew.  535 

Monday. — I  was  able  to  preach  twice  yesterday. 
I  feel  pretty  well  this  morning,  thanks  to  a  gracious 
God.  I  shall  decline  going  to  New  Orleans  at  pres- 
ent, and  shall,  God  willing,  leave  here  on  Wednesday 
evening  on  the  Gertrude.  I  think  I  shall  visit  Marion 
very  soon  after  reaching  home.  I  hear  a  very  good 
report  of  you  from  Sister  Stewart ;  hope  God  will 
make  you  an  instrument  of  much  good  there.  Oh, 
my  dear  Wesley,  aim  at  that  in  all  your  movements, 
and  God  will  give  you  the  desire  of  your  heart. 
These  are  days  of  peril,  and  of  dark  and  threatening 
prospects  for  our  country.  Oh,  that  God,  in  great 
mercy,  will  send  us  deliverance  in  His  own  good  time 
and  way.  Much  love  and  kisses  for  the  dear  children. 
God  bless  you  all. 

Yours  very  affectionately." 

The  wisdom  of  his  course  in  New  Orleans  was  mani- 
fest. He  realized  more  and  more  that  his  task  was 
done,  and  he  could  no  longer  do  the  kind  of  work  he 
had  been  engaged  in  all  his  life.  He  gave  that  up, 
and  now  concerned  himself  with  work  for  the  children, 
and  a  special  effort  to  advance  the  spiritual  interests 
of  the  Church.  His  presence  was  everywhere  a  bene- 
diction. He  was  so  gentle,  so  tender,  so  genial,  that 
thousands  of  homes  were  gladly  opened  to  him. 
While  he  was  at  Summerfield  his  heart  often  turned 
toward  these  hospitable  homes,  and  in  his  trembling 
hand  he  wrote  to  the  inmates.  George  W.  Williams 
of  Charleston  had  long  been  his  friend.  He  was  an 
enterprising  merchant,  the  brother-in-law  of  Bishop 
Wightman,  and  afterward  the  son-in-law  of  Bishop  An- 
drew's old  parishioner,  John  A.  Porter,  of  Madison, 


536 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Ga.  The  letter,  as  simple  as  it  is,  gives  a  little  in- 
sight into  the  way  in  which  he  turned  toward  his  old 
friends.  The  young  correspondent  alluded  to  was 
George  W.  Williams,  Jr.,  a  little  boy  who  had  been 
taught  to  love  the  old  Bishop,  and  who  had  writ- 
ten him  some  letters.  He  was  now  a  good  sized  lad, 
and  the  Bishop  wrote  him  also. 

"  SuMMERFiELD,  November  8,  1869. 

My  Dear  Brother  Williams: 

It  has  been  a  long  time  since  I  heard  from  you 
and  yours,  except  when  I  read  in  the  Advocate  your 
Nacoochie  sketches,  which,  by  the  way,  interested 
me  very  greatly,  so  that  I  wished  much  you  had  con- 
tinued them.  Well,  how  do  you  and  the  wife  and  the 
children  come  on  ?  By  the  way  how  many  have  you 
now,  and  how  does  my  little  correspondent,  George  W., 
Jr.,  come  on  ?  I  am  sorry  he  tired  of  my  correspond- 
ence so  early  ;  hope  he  may  be  induced  some  day  to 
renew  it. 

I  long  to  see  old  Charleston  once  more,  and  I  pro- 
pose, if  God  will,  to  spend  the  Sabbath  before  Con- 
ference in  your  city,  and  go  on  from  there  in  company 
with  some  of  you  to  Conference  ;  and  now  I  want  you 
to  attend  to  a  small  matter  of  business,  I  want  you  to 
subscribe  for  the  Rural  Carolinian  for  me  ;  direct  to 
me  here.  I  love  to  encourage,  as  far  as  practicable, 
Southern  literature.  Pay  the  subscription  and  I'll  pay 
you  when  I  see  you,  or  send  it  to  you  by  some  of  the 
preachers.  I  must  close,  as  my  trembling  hand  ad- 
monishes me  to  quit.  Much  love  to  your  good  wife 
and  a  blessing  to  each  of  your  children." 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  537 


To  GEO.  W.  WILLIAMS,  Jr. 

"  SuMMERFiELD,  March  14,  1870. 

"  My  Dear  Young  Friend  : 

"  You  don't  know  how  much  good  your  letter,  re- 
ceived the  other  day,  did  me.  Yes,  it  did  me  much 
good,  and  I  write  this  answer  hoping  you  may  be 
pleased  to  write  again.  I  will  try  to  answer  all  your 
letters,  though  my  answers  may  be  short.  I  love 
young  people  very  much  anyhow,  and  I  love  you  and 
all  your  father's  family.  I  have  known  him  and  loved 
him,  for  lo  !  these  many  years,  and  of  course  feel  a 
deep  interest  in  his  children.  I  admired  your  father, 
because  in  early  days  he  gave  his  heart  to  God  and 
was  not  ashamed  to  own  his  Saviour  and  Redeemer. 
Because  of  his  noble  self-reliance,  and  when  his  efforts 
to  acquire  wealth  were  successful,  instead  of  hoarding 
up  his  gains,  he  remembered  that  he  was  God's  stew- 
ard, gave  liberally  to  good  causes,  and  when  God 
caused  his  prosperity  to  increase,  he  still  did  not 
forget  the  high  and  holy  obligation  of  his  steward- 
ship. 

"Now,  my  dear  George,  imitate  your  father's  ex- 
ample, and  your  prosperity  will  be  sure.  First  of  all, 
honor  God  in  everything.  Ask  yourself,  '  Will  this, 
that  I  am  about  to  do,  please  God,  my  Heavenly 
Father  ?  '  Be  careful  in  the  selection  of  your  friends,  as 
wicked  associates  will  do  you  much  harm  before  you 
are  aware.  Therefore,  avoid  all  evil  counselors  ;  the 
same  is  true  of  books,  which  are  frequently  the  most  in- 
fluential companions.  I  think  I  need  not  advise  you  to 
love,  honor,  and  obey  your  parents,  for  I  think  you  will 
23* 


538 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


do  that  without  any  urging,  and  now,  for  one  of  the 
most  important  advices  I  can  give,  love  the  truth  and 
scorn  every  false  way,  abide  by  the  truth,  though  it 
may  bring  you  present  trouble  ;  still,  remember  that 
God  is  truth  and  will  own  and  bless  those  most  fully 
and  certainly,  who  honor  Him  by  following  His  ex- 
ample. Improve  your  time..  Remember,  that  time 
wasted  never  can  be  called  back  for  improvement. 

"  Once  more,  George,  your  father  is  a  prosperous 
man,  and  you  have  the  prospect  of  beginning  life  with 
the  promise  of  ease  and  wealth.  Take  care,  George, 
misfortunes  may  visit  your  house,  your  father's  busi- 
ness may  possibly  fail,  and  you  be  thrown  upon  your 
own  resources ;  prepare  now  in  prosperity  for  those 
days  of  darkness,  which  may  possibly  come;  but  I 
must  close.  Much  love  to  your  dear  father  and 
mother,  and  dear  little  Sallie. 

"  Yours  very  affectionately, 

James  O.  Andrew." 

The  General  Conference  was  near  at  hand.  He  had 
hardly  hoped  to  be  able  to  attend  its  session  ;  but, 
though  quite  feeble,  he  made  the  effort.  He  had  at- 
tended every  General  Conference  for  fifty  years. 
There  was  no  man  in  the  body  who  had  been  for  so 
many  consecutive  years  a  member.  He  found  him- 
self surrounded  by  the  children  of  his  old  friends. 
For  the  first  time  the  laymen  had  been  brought  in. 
The  Bishops  were  Andrew,  Paine,  Pierce,  Kavanagh, 
Wightman,  McTyiere,  and  Doggett,  and  during  the 
session  Keener  was  elected.  The  session  was  an  ex- 
citing one.  The  old  question  of  the  location  of  the 
Publishing  House  was  again  opened,  and  on  the  ex- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


539 


tension  of  the  pastorate  the  debate  was  very  warm 
and  sometimes  sharp.  The  old  man  had  no  heart  for 
strife  and  these  bickerings  were  not  pleasant  to  him. 
He  was  feeble  anyhow,  but  during  this  Conference 
was  unusually  unwell.  One  day,  after  a  discussion  on 
a  change  in  the  discipline,  he  made  the  following  re- 
marks : 

I  don't  expect  to  take  up  much  time — not  half  as 
much  as  you  have  wasted  in  quarreling  over  that  reso- 
lution, and  then  indefinitely  postponing  it.  I  am  glad 
that  it  has  been  done,  however.  Now,  I  want  to  say 
a  few  things  to  you.  I  have  been  attending  your  pres- 
ent session,  and  it  has  afforded  me  much  pleasure.  I 
have  met  many  of  my  old  friends,  and  they  have 
pressed  my  hands  warmly,  and  made  me  feel  very 
happy.  And  now  we  are  going  to  separate.  My 
mind  has  been  burdened  when  I  have  looked  on  this 
large  body  of  preachers  and  lay  brethren,  and  I  have 
thought.  Have  you  sought  the  glory  of  God  more 
than  your  own  ?  Have  you  considered  this  in  all 
your  speeches,  and  talks,  and  reports  ?  And  now  an- 
other point.  You  are  now  about  to  depart.  Many  of 
us  will  never  meet  again.  Shall  we  go  away  and  carry 
with  us  the  flame  of  revival,  and  show  that  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  has  been  a  season  of  reviving  influ- 
ences ?  Your  people  will  soon  see  it  if  this  is  the 
case. 

I  have  been  gratified,  as  well  as  sorry,  to  hear  some 
of  your  debates.  I  am  glad  that  we  have  been  conserva- 
tive enough  to  reject  a  great  many  things  that  have  been 
presented.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  delivering  my  last 
charge.  Many  years  ago  it  was  my  habit  to  deliver 
an  address  at  the  close  of  Conference.    It  is  not  now 


540 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


under  similar  circumstances.  I  am  about  to  leave  you. 
Farewell  !  That  word  comes  with  sadness  from  my 
heart.  I'll  never  see  many  of  you  any  more.  I  want 
you  to  remember  the  old  man.  I  want  you  to  pray  for 
the  old  Bishop.  I  think  I  can  say  with  Paul,  '  I  have 
coveted  no  man's  silver  or  gold.'  I  have  not  aimed  at 
my  own  glory.  I  have  always  gone  wherever  I  have 
been  sent.  I  can  appeal  to  my  colleagues  to  say 
whether  I  have  ever  flinched.  When  I  went  into  the 
work  I  considered  that  I  had  given  myself  up  to  God, 
and  had  no  right  to  choose  where  I  should  go.  That's 
the  spirit  of  the  itineracy.  No  man  is  fit  for  it  who 
has  not  laid  all  on  God's  altar.  If  you  are  seeking 
and  clamoring  for  good  places,  what  will  the  people 
say  of  you  ?  Now,  perhaps,  I  hear  more  than  you 
do,  and  I  have  been  pained  at  some  things  which 
have  come  to  my  ears.  You  have  no  right  to  choose 
your  own  work.  Now,  some  preachers  want  to  be 
Bishop.  If  you  want  comfort  and  honor  you  had  bet- 
ter be  where  you  are.  If  the  Church  calls  you,  then 
go  ;  but  woe  be  to  him  who  thrusts  himself  into  a  po- 
sition to  which  God  has  not  called  him.  I  remember 
well  the  last  charge  of  the  venerable  Bishop  McKen- 
dree  to  me.  We  were  coming  down  from  Philadelphia 
just  after  I  had  been  elected  bishop.  I  said  to  him 
that  the  Conference  had  laid  on  me  a  work  for  which 
I  was  not  prepared,  and  had  no  experience  whatever ; 
and  I  asked  him  to  please  give  me  some  advice.  He 
said  :  '  James,  I  have  not  much  to  say,  but  I  will  say,' 
and  I  want  you  bishops  to  hear  it,  *  never  shrink 
from  responsibility ;  for  remember  that  by  this 
you  assume  the  most  fearful  of  all  responsibilities.'  I 
have  thought  of  that  ever  since.    To  you,  preachers,  I 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


541 


would  say,  you  know  I  love  you  all,  and,  as  an  old 
man,  I  take  the  liberty  of  catechising  you  a  little. 
Many  of  you  are  young  men,  and  I  pray  you  to  con- 
secrate your  hearts  and  lives  to  the  work  of  Christ. 
Don't  be  afraid  of  not  being  provided  for.  This  Book 
(with  his  hand  on  the  Bible)  provides  for  you.  A 
California  missionary  once  said  to  me,  *  God  has  so 
often  interposed  in  my  bejialf  that  I  do  not  feel  con- 
cerned at  all,  for  I  know  that  God  will  take  care  of 
me.' 

**  Go  forward  and  do  your  duty.  The  Duke  of 
Sully  once  said  to  Henry  IV.,  *  You  treat  your  old 
servants  badly.  You  appoint  those  who  are  not 
your  friends  to  places  where  they  receive  large  sal- 
aries, and  leave  your  old  friends  out.'  The  King 
said  to  him,  '  Don't  be  uneasy,  I'll  take  care  of  you 
and  yours.'  Let  us  trust  in  God.  I  have  been  trav- 
eling sixty  years.  I  remember  the  venerable  Dr. 
Pierce  when  the  Bishop  was  a  baby.  I  thought  at 
that  time  he  wouldn't  live  long.  But  here  he  is  be- 
fore me  in  a  wonderful  state  of  mental  and  physical 
activity.  God  bless  the  old  man  !  I  have  always 
sustained  an  intimate  relation  to  the  Bishop.  God 
bless  you,  George  !  I  rejoice  at  your  triumph,  and 
pray  that  you  may  live  long.  Now,  brethren,  forgive 
the  old  man  for  talking  so  long.  God  bless  you  and 
yours  !  I  love  you  all ;  and  when  you  go  away  pray 
that,  up  yonder,  I  may  stand  with  those  who  have 
labored  with  me  on  earth." 

The  following  resolutions  were  offered,  read,  and 
adopted  by  a  rising  vote  : 

"  Resolved y  i.  That  the  presence  and  counsels  of  our 
beloved  senior  Bishop,  the  Rev.  James  O.  Andrew,  at 


542 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


this  Conference,  have  been  a  source  of  great  pleasure 
and  comfort  to  the  members  of  this  body. 

2.  That  we  separate  from  him,  after  hearing  per- 
haps his  last  words,  with  fervent  prayer,  and  hope 
that  his  declining  years  may  be  full  of  joy,  and  that 
his  dying  hour  may  be  radiant  with  the  light  of  im- 
mortality. 

B.  McFerrin, 
*'Thos.  O.  Summers.** 

This  was  his  last  talk  to  a  General  Conference.  It 
was  like  him,  simple,  fervent,  and  affectionate.  He 
was  near  the  end ;  the  sun  of  his  earthly  life  had  al- 
most gone  down,  but  there  was  nothing  tempestuous 
in  the  sky.  No  racking  pains,  no  painful  giving  way 
of  mind,  but  a  gentle,  almost  imperceptible  giving 
way  of  body.  Brother  Rush,  who  has  contributed 
so  kindly  and  so  largely  to  this  chapter,  tells  the  story 
of  these  last  years,  and  although  we  have  anticipated 
a  Httle,  we  will  give  it  as  he  tells  it : 

The  last  two  years  of  his  life  were  marked  by  very 
rapid  loss  of  strength  and  increase  of  infirmities.- 
Symptoms  of  paralysis,  which  had  hitherto  been  fee- 
ble, now  became  threatening  at  times,  affecting  his 
tongue  as  well  as  his  limbs,  and  the  old  disease  fre- 
quently became  uncontrollable.  The  mea^iing  of  all 
this  he  perfectly  understood.  Yet  it  affected  his  spirits 
not  in  the  least.  He  continued  the  same  sweet  spirited 
cheerful  old  man,  just  waiting  on  the  margin  of  the 
river  to  be  called  into  the  stream,  perfectly  assured 
that  the  crossing  would  be  safe,  and  that  on  the  other 
side  were  eternal  life  and  health.  He  attended  the 
General  Conference  in  Memphis  in  1870,  and  was  de- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


543 


lighted  with  the  working  of  the  lay  element  in  that 
body.  But  the  excitement  and  fatigue  were  too 
much.  It  became  necessary  for  him  in  the  summer 
to  seek  the  air  and  water  of  the  granite  region  of 
Georgia.  He  reached  Oxford  in  time  for  the  com- 
mencement, and  spent  the  remainder  of  the  summer 
in  the  neighborhood  with  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  T.  M. 
Merriwether.  He  was  extremely  feeble.  While  there 
he  made  his  last  will  and  testament,  two  or  three 
paragraphs  of  which  so  perfectly  reflect  the  man  that 
they  may  with  propriety  be  copied  into  this  place : 
*  My  silver  watch,  given  to  me  by  my  old  friend  Lewis 
Myers,  I  wish  my  son-in-law,  Rev.  J.  W.  Rush,  to 
have  and  to  keep  as  a  rehc  of  a  faithful  Itinerant 

Methodist  Preacher  This,  I  believe,  is 

all  the  property  I  have  to  dispose  of.  In  early  life  I 
devoted  myself  to  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus, 
and  have  had  no  time  to  accumulate  wealth.  But  I 
trust  I  leave  my  children  an  untarnished  reputation, 
and  have  good  hope,  through  grace,  of  resting  with 
God  in  Heaven  when  the  pilgrimage  of  life  is  ended. 
.  .  .  .  If  practicable,  I  desire  to  be  buried  in  the 
graveyard  of  Oxford,  Ga.,  that  my  dust  may  rest  with 
the  kindred  dust  that  sleeps  already  there.'  " 
Of  this  visit  to  Oxford  Bishop  Wightman  says  : 
The  last  time  I  was  permitted  to  see  his  venerable 
form  was  at  the  commencement  of  Emory  College,  in 
July  of  last  year.  He  was  able  to  take  no  part  in  the 
exercises  of  the  occasion,  beyond  occupying  a  seat  on 
the  rostrum,  and  dropping  in  occasionally  at  the  meet- 
ings of  the  Trustees.  To  the  last  this  clear-sighted 
man  felt  the  value  to  the  church  of  her  institutions  of 
learning.  To  the  cause  of  education,  under  the  auspices 


544 


The  Life  ajid  Letters  of 


of  the  church,  he  had  given  all  along  the  support  of 
his  influence  and  the  aid  of  his  counsels.  He  lived  to 
see  schools,  colleges,  and  universities  established  in 
number  sufficient  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  whole  con- 
nection. And  now,  at  this  last  commencement  he  was 
ever  to  attend,  there  was  a  class  of  more  than  twenty- 
graduates,  each  one  a  member  of  the  church,  and 
several  of  the  most  distinguished  preparing  for  the 
ministry.  Contrasting  this  with  the  state  of  things 
when  he  began  to  preach,  must  he  not  have  felt  the 
throb  of  a  mighty  joy  ?  " 

Merriwether,  after  his  return  from  a  blessed  camp- 
meeting,  in  which  a  number  of  his  grandchildren  had 
been  converted,  writes  him  and  he  replies : 

"  SUMMERFIELD,  Ala.  ,  October  21,  1870. 

My  Dear  Thomas  : 

*'Your  very  welcome  letter  reached  me  two  or 
three  days  since.  I  thank  you  for  it.  Go  and  do 
likewise  pretty  shortly.  Oh  !  how  have  I  repented 
not  being  there.  Thanks  be  to  God  for  the  visitation 
of  His  grace,  bringing  to  the  memory  of  the  Church 
everywhere  those  golden  days  when  camp-meetings 
were  being  glorified  before  the  people,  and  when 
class-meetings  were  popular  throughout  the  Church. 
Well,  God  is  good,  glory  be  to  His  holy  name.  My 
health,  since  I  left  you,  has  been  fluctuating.  At 
present  I  feel  that  I  improve  in  strength,  though  it's 
precarious  yet.  I'll  praise  Him  for  what  is  past  and 
trust  Him  for  all  that's  to  come." 

Mr.  Rush  says : 
He  returned  home  in  the  fall,  somewhat  recuper- 
ated, but  feeling  that  the  time  of  his  departure  was 


y antes  Osgood  Andrew. 


545 


now  near  at  hand.  He  consequently  wished  to  have 
everything  in  readiness.  He  gave  me  his  own  official 
seal  with  those  of  Bishops  Soule,  McKendree,  and  As- 
bury,  and  also  that  of  Mr.  Wesley,  to  be  delivered  at 
his  death  to  Bishop  Paine.  I  do  not  know  that  he 
valued  these  seals  as  at  all  evidences  of  the  legitimacy 
of  Southern  Methodism,  but  suppose  that  he  cherished 
them  simply  as  mementoes  of  good  and  great  men. 
Mrs.  Andrew  was  still  more  helpless,  and  his  daugh- 
ter Sarah,  who,  in  addition  to  the  general  business  of 
housekeeping,  had  had  for  more  than  two  years  the 
constant  care  of  her  mother,  was  wearied  almost  to 
complete  exhaustion.  The  burden  was  too  heavy, 
she  could  not  longer  bear  it  alone.  She  must  be  re- 
lieved. So  it  was  agreed,  after  a  family  consultation, 
that  the  Bishop  should  attend  Conference  and  state 
the  whole  case  to  Bishop  McTyiere,  the  president, 
and  ask  him  to  fix  my  appointment  for  the  next  year, 
so  that  my  wife  could  live  in  the  house  and  help  her 
sister  bear  the  burden.  With  this  purpose  and  to  see 
the  brethren  once  more,  he  went  up  to  Montgomery, 
the  seat  of  the  Conference.  Here  he  made  his  last 
address  to  a  body  of  preachers.  Exhorting  them  to 
be  pure  and  grave  in  speech,  to  cultivate  the  spirit  of 
personal  piety,  to  avoid  secular  sympathies  and  po- 
litical complications,  to  devote  themselves  solely  to 
the  ministry  of  the  gospel ;  and  giving  them  his  *  God 
bless  you  all,'  he  bade  them  farewell.  Bishop  Mc- 
Tyiere was  spoken  to  about  the  appointment,  but  in- 
stead of  sending  us  to  Summerfield,  he  sent  us  to  Mo- 
bile, one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  farther  away.  This  was 
a  very  great  disappointment  to  Bishop  Andrew,  for  it 
broke  up  what  he  thought  were  his  completed  arrange- 


546 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


ments  for  dying.  Yet  he  instantly  and  cheerfully  ac- 
quiesced, saying  that  although  he  did  not  see  why  the 
Bishop  had  thus  decided,  still  he  knew  that  Bishops 
often  did  wise  things  that  nobody  understood  at  the 
time  but  themselves,  and  had  no  doubt  that  the  whole 
affair  would  work  out  right.  And  so  it  did.  For  it 
proved  in  the  end  a  far  better  arrangement  for  dying 
than  he  himself  had  made.  He  arranged  to  die  at 
home,  attended  by  his  children,  his  grandchildren, 
and  his  near  neighbors.  But  Bishop  McTyiere  ar- 
ranged that  the  veteran  warrior  should  lay  aside  his 
armor  in  a  tent  on  the  field,  surrounded  by  other 
veterans  and  younger  soldiers  as  well  as  by  his  affec- 
tionate family. 

Returning  home,  he  settled  all  his  accounts  for 
the  year,  and  early  in  January  with  his  wife  went  on 
to  Mobile,  intending  to  spend  the  spring  in  that  place, 
thus  giving  Sarah  an  opportunity  for  the  rest  she  so 
much  needed.  He  slept  well,  his  appetite  was  good, 
his  friends  were  rejoiced  to  see  him  improve  rapidly 
in  flesh  and  strength.  He  preached  in  the  churches, 
talked  in  the  Sunday-schools,  attended  class-meetings, 
and  visited  his  old  friends.  It  was  a  bright  season  in 
the  old  man's  life,  which  he  enjoyed  exceedingly,  and 
which  was  prolonged  by  a  visit  to  the  city  of  New 
Orleans.  He  went  over  alone,  leaving  Mrs.  Andrew 
in  Mobile,  and  stopped  at  the  house  of  his  dear  friend, 
Dr.  Moss.  From  this  house,  as  his  temporary  home, 
he  visited  other  friends,  and  went  to  church  and  Sun- 
day-school. And  in  this  house,  at  half-past  four 
o'clock  on  the  night  of  Tuesday,  February  2ist,  he 
heard  the  certain  call  of  the  Master.  He  was  struck 
with  paralysis,  which  at  once  rendered  helpless  the 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


547 


entire  left  side.  When  his  condition  was  made  known 
in  the  city,  many  friends  called  to  see  him.  These  he 
received  with  words  of  greeting  and  with  a  spirit  of 
cheerfulness,  just  such  as  would  have  characterized 
him  had  he  been  in  usual  health  and  sitting  in  the  par- 
lor. He  had  made  every  arrangement  for  death,  and 
it  mattered  not  where  or  when  the  event  should  take 
place.  The  power  of  articulation  was  not  altogether 
destroyed  by  the  first  stroke,  nor  was  it  completely 
lost  until  the  day  before  his  death.  On  Wednes- 
day I  went  over  after  him.  On  entering  the  room 
his  greeting  was  very  cheerful,  though  he  expressed 
the  conviction  that  his  time  was  just  at  hand.  Before 
starting  with  him  to  the  Mobile  train,  Bishop  Keener, 
with  the  New  Orleans  preachers,  entered  the  room  to 
bid  him  farewell. 

Prayer  was  proposed,  and  while  Bishop  Keener 
was  reading  the  fifth  chapter  of  Romans,  Bishop  An- 
drew would  frequently  say,  *  What  a  delightful  prom- 
ise ! '  *  What  a  glorious  truth  !  '  and  when  the  verse 
was  reached  which  reads,  *  For  if  when  we  were 
enemies,'  etc.,  *  that,'  said  he,  '  was  a  favorite  text  of 
of  Dr.  Olin's,'  and  added  afterward,  *  the  Doctor  said 
he  thought  the  death  of  Christ  was  inexpressibly 
precious,  yet,  if  possible,  the  thought  of  the  life  of 
Christ  was  even  more  so.'  One  of  the  preachers  re- 
peated the  lines  : 

*  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are  ; ' 

when  Bishop  Andrew  immediately  added  : 

*  When  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there.' 


548 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Bishop  Keener  led  in  one  of  those  inimitable  prayers 
of  his  own,  Bishop  Andrew  responding  now  and  then 
audibly,  with  a  hearty,  '  Amen  ! ' 

''That  afternoon  he  was  transferred  to  the  parson- 
age in  Mobile  without  the  shghtest  manifestation  of 
mental  anxiety  or  bodily  pain.  The  friends  in  Mobile 
suffered  him  not  to  lack  a  moment  for  any  aid  love  or 
money  could  give.  Visitors  were  admitted  to  his 
presence,  for  he  retained  his  power  of  thought  and 
speech,  and  was  entirely  free  from  suffering.  To  his 
sorrowing  family,  wife,  children,  and  grandchildren, 
he  spoke  words  of  comfort  and  of  cheer.  On  all  sub- 
jects upon  which  he  spoke  at  all  during  his  sickness, 
his  words  were  as  easy  and  natural  as  if  he  had  had  no 
thought  of  death.  So  far  as  any  one  observed,  his 
present  condition  made  not  the  slightest  change  in  the 
spirit  and  temper  of  his  mind.  In  the  grasp  of  death  he 
was  the  same  man,  feeling,  thinking,  and  talking  just  as 
he  would  have  done  had  he  been  in  perfect  health,  in 
the  pulpit,  in  the  class-room  or  at  the  fireside — a  perfect 
illustration  of  the  New  Testament  doctrine  of  death. 

Thinking  he  might  have  some  directions  to  give 
about  some  special  matters,  or  that  he  might  wish  to 
send  some  message  to  particular  friends,  and  desiring 
to  execute  his  every  wish  while  consciousness  was  yet 
clear  and  speech  sufficient ;  I  asked  him  if  he  had  any- 
thing of  this  sort  to  say.  In  reply  he  said  :  *  I  wish 
you  to  tell  the  Bishops  I  would  like  to  meet  them  in 
May,  but  cannot,  for  I  am  fully  persuaded  my  time  is 
at  hand  ;  that  I  have  in  them  the  fullest  confidence, 
and  die  rejoicing  that  God  has  put  the  Church  under 
their  care  and  superintendency  ;  that  they  must  live 
in  peace  and  harmony,  as  they  have  always  done. 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  549 


Tell  the  preachers  to  follow  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
Discipline  where  we  are  exhorted  to  be  serious.  They 
meet  at  Conference  and  backslide  instead  of  growing 
in  grace.  This  is  owing  largely  to  the  foolish  habit  of 
jesting.  Tell  them  I  love  them,  and  to  be  steadfast, 
unmovable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  forasmuch  as  they  know  that  their  labor  is  not 
in  vain  in  the  Lord.  Tell  all  the  Church  I  feel  I  have 
lived  very  imperfectly,  but  my  hope  and  confidence  is 
in  God,  and  I  hope  to  'meet  them  in  heaven.  Give 
Bishop  Pierce  my  love  ;  tell  him  to  travel  through  the 
Church  as  he  has  done,  and  God  will  bless  the  work. 
Tell  the  preachers  not  to  neglect  the  Sunday-school. 
The  children  are  an  important  part  of  the  Church. 
The  words  of  the  Master  are,  **  Feed  my  lambs."  ' 

He  then  requested  to  be  buried  in  Oxford,  and 
that  Bishop  Pierce  be  asked  to  preach  his  funeral 
sermon,  *  But,'  he  added,  *  I  want  you  to  let  no  parade 
be  made  over  me  when  I  am  gone.'  I  afterward  asked 
him  if  he  had  his  life  to  go  over,  what  change,  if  any, 
he  would  make.  He  answered,  '  None,  but  to  try  to 
be  more  faithful. '  The  day  before  he  died,  when  asked 
how  he  felt,  he  answered,  *  Bless  God,  all  is  well !  " 
Later  in  the  evening  his  lips  were  seen  moving  and 
he  was  asked,  *  What  did  you  say.  Bishop  ?  '  *  Vic- 
tory !  Victory  !  '  The  last  words  he  ever  spoke  were 
to  Mary  Rush,  his  little  granddaughter,  in  response 
to  her  good-night  kiss  :  *God  bless  you  all  ! '  That 
night  he  became  unconscious  and  speechless,  and  his 
breathing  was  very  hard  and  labored.  This  contin- 
ued so  till  near  the  last,  when  the  action  of  his  lungs 
gradually  subsided  to  a  low  soft  motion,  and  he  died 
sweetly  and  calmly. 


550 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


"  After  death  his  features  assumed  a  cast  so  regular, 
benignant,  and  youthful,  as  to  be  noticed  by  every 
one  who  saw  him.  Bishop  Keener,  observing  it,  ex- 
claimed, '  How  beautiful  is  death  ! '  Not  a  trace  of 
care  or  sorrow  or  pain  was  visible  in  his  face,  which  now 
beamed  with  a  mingled  expression  of  dignity  and  good- 
ness. His  death  occurred  at  twenty  minutes  past 
eleven  P.M.,  March  i,  1871,  in  the  Franklin  Street 
Parsonage,  Mobile,  in  the  presence  of  Bishop  Keener, 
Dr.  A.  S.  Andrews,  Revs.  H.  R.  Urquhart,  Jr.,  E. 
Foust,  R.  M.  Powers,  J.  C.  Spence,  N.  Morris,  be- 
sides his  two  daughters,  Sarah  and  Octavia,  his  wife, 
and  Rev.  J.  W.  Rush  and  his  children,  and  William 
Otis,  with  other  beloved  friends. 

Funeral  ceremonies  were  held  in  Mobile  in  the 
following  order:  ist.  The  reading  of  the  introductory 
service,  and  hymn  729  :  *  Why  do  we  mourn  depart- 
ing friends,"  by  Bishop  J.  C.  Keener.  2d.  Prayer  by 
Rev.  J.  C.  Spence.  3d.  The  nineteenth  psalm,  fif- 
teenth chapter  of  1st  Corinthians,  by  Rev.  H.  R.  Ur- 
quhart. 4th.  Address  by  Bishop  Keener.  5th.  Ad- 
dress by  Dr.  Andrews.  6th.  *  I  heard  a  voice,  etc.,* 
and  the  Collect,  by  Rev.  J  .  E.  Foust.  7th.  739th 
hymn,  '  Servant  of  God,  well  done,'  by  Dr.  Andrews. 
8th.  Benediction  by  Bishop  Keener. 

**  Mr.  William  Otis  and  Dr.  A.  S.  Andrews  lovingly 
volunteered  to  accompany  his  remains  to  Oxford,  Ga., 
the  place  of  interment.  Leaving  Mobile  on  Friday 
night,  we  reached  the  residence  of  Mr.  Merri  wether  on 
Saturday  night,  and  at  twelve  o'clock  of  the  day  fol- 
lowing, which  was  the  Sabbath,  entered  the  Oxford 
church  with  his  coffined  remains.  The  house  was 
filled  with  a  congregation  of  his  old  friends  and  neigh- 


James  Osgood  Andreiv. 


551 


bors,  who  came  with  sad  hearts  and  tearful  faces  to 
gaze  for  the  last  time  upon  the  face  of  one  whom  they 
had  often  heard  as  an  apostle  of  God,  and  whom  they 
tenderly  loved  as  a  spiritual  father.  The  services,  in- 
troduced by  Dr.  W.  H.  Potter,  were  participated  in 
by  other  ministers  present.  Dr.  Andrews,  of  Mobile  ; 
Rev.  William  J.  Parks,  of  Georgia;  Rev.  WiUiam 
Martin,  of  South  Carolina;  Rev.  Albert  Gray,  of 
Georgia  ;  and  Dr.  L.  M.  Smith,  President  of  Emory 
College,  all  paid  eloquent  and  touching  tributes  to  the 
virtues  and  worth  of  this  departed  Prince  of  Israel. 
After  services  at  the  church  were  concluded,  the  con- 
gregation were  indulged  with  a  last  look  at  their  beloved 
Bishop's  face,  which  was,  till  then,  very  slightly  discol- 
ored by  decay.  The  corpse  was  then  borne  to  the 
village  graveyard,  the  burial  service  read  by  Dr.  An- 
drews, and  then,  beside  the  dust  of  his  dear  Amelia 
and  their  children,  his  body  was  laid  to  rest." 

On  February  i8th,  three  days  before  he  was  stricken, 
he  wrote  his  last  letter.  It  was  to  his  precious  wife. 
Poor,  afflicted,  yet  happy  woman,  her  mind  was  bright 
enough  to  appreciate  these  words  of  love  from  her  af- 
fectionate husband : 

"New  Orleans,  February  18,  1871. 

My  Precious  Wife  : 

"  I  received  your  letter  yesterday  ;  was  glad  to  hear 
from  you,  and  to  hear  you  were  still  doing  well,  body 
and  soul.  I  wrote  you  a  day  or  two  since.  I  have 
continued  pretty  well,  and  have  continued  to  receive 
all  sorts  of  church  attention  from  the  people.  I  hope 
my  visit  here  will  not  be  entirely  unproductive  of 
good  to  the  church. 


552 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


I  addressed  the  Sunday-school  at  length  here  last 
Sunday,  and  hope  that  some  of  the  seed  will  be  pro- 
ductive. Next  Sabbath  I  expect  to  be  at  Felicity 
Street  Church.  The  preachers  have  all  called  on  me. 
I  think  they  love  me.  May  God  make  my  visit  a 
blessing  to  them.  I  think  I  have  enjoyed  much  of 
the  peaceful  presence  of  God  since  I  have  been  here. 
I  want  to  see  you  all  very  much,  and  you  are  never 
forgotten  by  me  in  my  approaches  to  the  throne  of 
the  heavenly  mercy,  God  Almighty  bless  you  abun- 
dantly, my  own  Emily.  Write  to  me  again  very  often. 
Much  love  to  all  the  Parsonage  family. 

Yours  very  devotedly, 

James  O.  Andrew." 

When  he  returned  to  Mobile,  stricken  unto  death, 
as  all  men  knew,  the  noble-hearted  Stewards  in  New 
Orleans,  through  their  faithful  pastor,  sent  him,  by 
Bishop  Keener,  the  following  letter  and  its  enclosure : 

"227  St.  Joseph  Street,  New  Orleans, 
**  February  28,  1871. 

My  Dear  Bishop  : 

I  have  the  honor  and  privilege  of  being  able  to 
send  you  the  enclosed  check  for  $200,  a  small  contri- 
bution from  our  Board  of  Stewards  to  any  necessities 
that  may  be  pressing  you  at  this  time,  and  offered 
more  as  a  faint  testimonial  of  our  profound  esteem 
and  sincere  affection  for  you. 

*'The  proposition  to  make  up  the  amount  came 
from  one  of  the  Stewards  at  our  meeting  last  night, 
and  was  immediately  and  most  cheerfully  responded 
to  by  all. 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


553 


"  Trusting  that  the  remittance  may  not  be  unac- 
ceptable to  you,  I  am,  my  dear  Bishop, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

"W.  V.  Tudor. 
P.S. — Hope  that  this  may  find  you  improved  in 
health  and  rejoicing  in  spirit. — W.  V.  T." 

It  was  a  timely  gift,  but  there  was  a  dear  brother, 
William  Otis,  in  Mobile,  who,  realizing  what  it  meant, 
begged  the  privilege  of  discharging  that  office,  and 
took  all  the  funeral  expenses  upon  himself  and  accom- 
panied the  body  to  Oxford  as  one  of  the  mourning 
friends. 

His  last  letter  was  a  few  short  words  to  his 
daughter  Sarah,  expressive  of  his  deep  love  for  her 
and  great  gratitude  for  the  way  in  which  she  had 
nursed  him  and  his  afflicted  wife.  The  last  news- 
paper article  he  ever  wrote  was  written  while  he  was 
in  New  Orleans,  and  is  published  elsewhere  in  this 
volume. 

Bishop  Pierce  received  the  request  of  his  dear  old 
friend,  and  replied  in  his  usual  style  : 

"  Sparta,  March  3,  1871. 

*'My  Dear  Brother: 

Received  your  letter  last  night.  I  had  seen  the 
account  of  the  old  Bishop's  affliction.  Well,  he  is 
ready,  full  of  days  and  full  of  faith.  Oh,  may  I  tri- 
umph so.  If  alive,  tell  him  his  love  is  a  balm,  and 
will  be  a  precious  memory  to  me.  Tell  him,  too,  that 
I  expect  to  work  on  to  the  end,  and  hope  to  see  him 
and  be  with  him  in  heaven. 

"As  to  the  funeral  sermon,  will  try  to  meet  his 
24  _ 


554 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


wish,  but  if  he  dies  in  a  few  days  will  have  to  post- 
pone the  service  for  two  or  three  weeks.  I  am  just 
starting  for  the  Baltimore  Conference.  Love  to  all 
from  Ann  and  me. 

Affectionately, 

''G.  F.  Pierce." 

As  he  had  requested,  they  bore  him  to  Oxford  to 
lay  him  in  the  vacant  spot  between  his  Amelia  and 
Leonora,  and  near  by  Elizabeth  and  Hennie.  The 
Southern  Christia?i  Advocate  published  the  following 
account  of  these  obsequies  from  the  graceful  pen  of 
Dr.  J.  O.  A.  Clark  : 

"  Burial  of  Bishop  Andrew. 

"The  first  Sunday  in  March,  1 871,  will  long  be 
remembered  in  Oxford.  It  was  on  that  day  the 
remains  of  Bishop  James  Osgood  Andrew,  the  Senior 
Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South, 
were  deposited  in  our  village  graveyard. 

"  About  the  middle  of  the  previous  week  the  hearts 
of  this  community  were  saddened  by  the  news  that 
our  beloved  and  venerated  Senior  Bishop  was  lying 
at  Mobile  at  the  point  of  death.  We  were  not  sur- 
prised, therefore,  to  hear  on  Friday  that  the  sad  event 
so  certainly  anticipated  had  taken  place.  With  the 
announcement  of  his  death  came  the  intelligence  that 
his  remains  would  be  brought  to  Oxford  for  inter- 
ment ;  that  the  funeral  services  would  be  celebrated 
on  the  first  Sabbath,  in  the  village  church  ;  and  that 
Bishop  Pierce  was  expected  to  be  present  and  preach 
the  funeral  sermon  of  his  departed  colleague. 

"  The  Sabbath  came.    The  morning  was  one  of 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  555 


peculiar  loveliness  and  beauty — calm,  peaceful,  cloud- 
less, smiling,  and  laden  with  the  first  reviving  breath 
of  Spring.  It  was  the  loveliest  day  of  this  new  year. 
At  the  appointed  hour  for  worship,  the  villagers,  the 
professors  and  students  of  Emory  College  were  gather- 
ing at  the  house  of  God.  Notwithstanding  the  short 
notice  given,  many  came  from  the  surrounding  coun- 
try and  from  Covington.  When  the  writer  arrived, 
the  house  was  already  well  filled ;  without  were  many 
awaiting  the  coming  of  the  funeral  train.  After  a 
while  the  procession  was  seen  at  some  distance,  wind- 
ing its  slow  length  along  the  narrow  and  crooked  lane 
through  which  it  had  to  approach  the  village.  The 
body  was  brought  from  the  house  of  Brother  Merri- 
wether,  one  of  the  good  Bishop's  sons-in-law,  who 
lives  about  three  miles  from  here.  In  the  funeral 
train  were  the  family  of  the  Bishop,  the  delegation 
from  the  Alabama  Conference,  the  delegation  from 
the  South  Carolina  Conference,  the  Presiding  Elder 
of  this  District,  the  preacher  in  charge  of  this  circuit, 
and  many  of  the  church  and  congregation  who  wor- 
ship at  Shiloh.  The  slow  and  measured  notes  of  the 
tolling  bell  soon  announced  that  the  cortege  was 
drawing  nigh.  Arrived  at  the  church,  the  pall-bearers 
took  up  the  body  and  bore  it  within,  preceded  by 
Brother  Potter,  the  Presiding  Elder,  repeating  the 
ritual  for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  beginning  with,  *  I 
am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,'  and  followed  by  all 
who  had  not  already  secured  seats.  Slowly  and 
sadly,  amid,  tears  and  weeping,  the  precious  remains 
of  our  dear  old  Bishop  and  beloved  Father  in  Israel 
were  borne  up  one  of  the  aisles,  and  deposited  in  the 
chancel — or  rather,  to  use  a  word  dearer  and  more 


556 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


familiar  to  Methodists,  within  the  altar — directly  be- 
neath the  pulpit  from  which,  in  other  days,  the  Bishop 
had  so  often  and  so  eloquently  preached  the  word  of 
life  to  the  hungry  multitudes  that  hung  upon  his  lips. 

*'The  obsequies  of  the  first  Sunday  in  March  can 
never  be  forgotten  by  those  who  witnessed  them. 
The  impressions  of  those  solemn  hours  when  we  list- 
ened, and  felt,  and  wept,  and  vowed,  and  prayed  at 
the  funeral  rites  in  honor  of  the  lamented  dead,  will 
survive  the  grave.  A  death-like  stillness  pervaded 
the  large  assembly — such  sadness  was  on  every  coun- 
tenance as  alone  is  felt  when  we  feel  that  some  great 
calamity  has  befallen  us.  And  yet  it  was  a  sadness 
hallowed  and  mellowed  by  the  thought  that  the  old 
man,  after  having  performed  all  his  Master's  work, 
and  having  performed  it  wisely  and  well,  full  of  years 
and  full  of  honors,  had,  like  a  ripe  shock  of  wheat, 
been  gathered  into  his  Master's  garner. 

*'It  was  a  disappointment  to  us  all  that  Bishop 
Pierce  was  not  present,  as  was  expected,  to  conduct 
the  solemnities  and  preach  the  sermon.  A  telegram 
had  been  sent  to  him,  but,  no  doubt,  failed  to  reach 
his  home  before  he  left  to  attend  the  Baltimore  Con- 
ference. But,  much^as  we  regretted  our  disappoint- 
ment, this  regret  was  soon  forgotten  in  the  impressive, 
solemn,  and  interesting  services  which  attended  the 
occasion.  Brother  Potter,  conducting  the  exercises, 
began  with  the  lessons  in  the  Order  of  the  Burial  of 
the  Dead.  The  ninetieth  Psalm  and  the  fifteenth 
chapter  of  ist  Corinthians  never,  it  seems  to  me, 
sounded  more  sweetly  and  appropriately.  The  feel- 
ings of  many  were  in  unison  with  the  Psalmist,  who, 
complaining  of  human  fragility,  divine  chastisements, 


James  Osgood  Andrew.  557 

and  brevity  of  life,  yet  prayeth  for  the  knowledge  and 
sensible  experience  of  God's  good  providence  ;  and 
with  the  Apostle  also,  who,  confident  of  Christ's  tri- 
umph over  death,  and  resurrection  from  the  dead,  ex- 
ultingly  shouted,  *  0  death y  where  is  thy  sting?  O 
grave^  where  is  thy  victory  ?  '  Montgomery's  beauti- 
ful hymn  on  the  *  funeral  of  an  aged  minister '  was 
then  plaintively  sung,  the  whole  congregation  joining 
in  the  singing,  and  feeling  how  appropriate  to  the 
aged  Bishop  were  these  words  : 

*  Servant  of  God,  well  done  ! 
Rest  from  thy  loved  employ  : 
The  battle  fought,  the  victory  won, 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy.* 

When  these  plaintive  strains  had  died  away.  Bro- 
ther Andrews,  of  Francis  Street  Church,  Mobile,  who 
accompanied  the  remains  to  Georgia,  and  who  was 
with  the  Bishop  repeatedly  during  his  last  days  on 
earth,  arose  and  addressed  the  listening,  weeping  con- 
gregation. Our  Alabama  brother,  feelingly  and  with 
great  simplicity,  gave  us  some  account  of  the  Bishop's 
last  sojourn  in  Mobile.  The  Bishop's  labors  in  the 
pulpit,  in  the  Sabbath-school,  and  around  the  fireside, 
were  peculiarly  sweet  and  pathetic,  reminding  the 
speaker  of  the  '  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,*  who,  in 
his  old  age,  and  with  his  flock  gathered  about  him, 
was  wont  to  say,  *  Little  children,  love  one  another.' 
After  speaking  of  his*  calm,  peaceful,  happy  death,  the 
speaker  next  repeated  the  messages  of  the  dying  Bishop 
to  his  colleagues,  to  the  ministry,  and  to  the  whole 
church.  As  these  messages  will,  no  doubt,  be  given 
to  the  public,  we  can  only  allude  to  them.  Brother 


558 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


Andrews  concluded  his  remarks  with  a  happy  allusion 
to  the  many  old  comrades  of  the  Bishop  who  had 
gone  ahead,  and  who,  no  doubt,  greeted  him  on  the 
other  shore. 

The  next  speaker  was  Rev.  William  J.  Parks — 
'  Uncle  Billy,*  as  we  love  to  call  him — himself  a  vet- 
eran of  the  cross,  and  the  companion  in  arms  of  the 
sainted  dead.  Between  him  and  Andrew  there  had 
been  an  intimacy  of  more  than  forty  years.  Touch- 
ingly  did  he  allude  to  the  labors  of  the  Bishop 
throughout  his  long,  eventful  career  ;  he  bore  witness 
to  his  great  ability  as  a  preacher,  and  his  wisdom  as  a 
General  Superintendent.  Never  had  he  known  a 
more  holy  or  devoted  man  of  God.  And  especially 
did  he  bear  testimony  to  the  noble  heroism,  the  sub- 
lime virtue,  the  perfect  simplicity,  the  gentleness,  the 
humility,  the  patience,  the  serenity  of  Bishop  Andrew 
in  the  trying  times  of  1844.  Even  the  preachers  of 
the  North  admired  the  man  and  the  Christian  minister. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken  against  his  private,  ministerial, 
or  official  character.  They  condemned  the  relation 
which  he  sustained  to  slavery,  not  the  man  whom 
they  owned  as  a  brother  beloved.  As  a  preacher  of 
the  word,  '  Uncle  Billy  *  regarded  Bishop  Andrew  as 
one  of  the  ablest  the  church  in  these  days  has  pro- 
duced. He  characterized  him  as  the  'great  camp- 
meeting  preacher ' — that  no  man  could  produce  more 
wonderful  results  at  a  camp-meeting.  He  told  us 
that  the  last  thing  he  read  from  the  Bishop's  pen  was 
an  earnest  appeal  to  the  church  in  favor  of  the  revival 
of  camp-meetings. 

When  Brother  Parks  sat  down,  Rev.  Wm.  Mar- 
tin, of  the  South  Carohna  Conference,  arose  and  ad- 


James  Osgood  Andrew. 


559 


dressed  us.  Brother  Martin  first  saw  Bishop  Andrew 
at  the  South  Carohna  Conference  in  1830.  At  that 
time  Brother  Martin  joined  the  Conference  on  trial. 
Bishop  Andrew,  then  a  travehng  preacher  in  that 
Conference,  was  Chairman  of  the  Committee  by  which 
he  was  examined.  The  impressions  he  there  formed 
of  the  men  were  "  burnt  into  his  very  constitution," 
and  the  advice  and  godly  counsels  of  the  Bishop,  and 
his  remarks  upon  the  administration  of  the  Discipline 
of  the  church,  have  followed  him  through  all  his  min- 
isterial life,  and  been  of  inestimable  service  to  him. 
He  spoke  most  eloquently  of  the  Bishop's  influence 
in  South  Carolina.  He  had  been  in  cities  and  over 
churches  where  the  Bishop  had  been  stationed.  And 
wherever  he  had  been,  the  poor  of  the  church  and 
community  loved  the  memory  of  the  Bishop.  The 
poor  were  always  warm  and  eloquent  in  his  praise. 
They  had  always  found  in  him  a  friend  and  comforter. 
Nor  was  this  all.  To  none  was  the  Bishop  more  dear 
than  to  the  colored  people.  Among  them  his  labors 
were  always  abundant.  They  loved  him  as  they  loved 
no  other  preacher.  In  the  trying  hours  of  1844,  none 
rallied  around  him  more  devotedly  and  affectionate- 
ly than  the  colored  brethren  v/hom  he  had  served. 
They  were  all  for  '  Mas.  Andrew.'  The  speaker  had 
been  at  many  death-bed  scenes  among  the  colored 
people  of  South  Carolina.  Again  and  again  had  he 
heard  the  dying  testimony  of  their  love  and  reverence 
for  '  Mas.  Andrew.'  On  the  bed  of  death,  in  the 
class-room,  and  at  the  love-feast,  had  he  heard  them 
again  and  again,  with  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude, 
ascribe  their  conversion  to  the  preaching  of  '  Mas. 
Andrew  '  in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  cabin.    The  brother 


56o 


The  Life  and  Letters  of 


from  Mobile  had  made  reference  to  the  old  comrades 
who  greeted  the  Bishop  on  the  banks  of  happy  deliv- 
erance. Among  them  would  be  found  thousands  of 
colored  brethren,  both  men  and  women,  saved  from 
death  through  the  blessing  of  God  upon  his  labors. 

**When  the  writer  of  this  returned  home,  his  old 
cook-woman,  who  was  present  at  the  funeral,  and 
who  had  long  known  the  Bishop  and  was  a  member 
of  his  family,  remarked,  *  How  true  was  all  that  the 
South  Carolina  brother  had  said  about  Bishop  An- 
drew's labors  among  the  colored  people.' 

Rev.  Albert  Gray,  preacher  in  charge  of  this  cir- 
cuit, next  gave  us  a  brief  account  of  his  acquaintance 
with  the  Bishop.  He  had  known  him  intimately  for 
twenty  years — when  a  student  in  Emory  College,  he 
had  boarded  in  the  family  of  Bishop  Andrew.  He 
owed  everything  valuable  to  the  influence  and  godly 
advice  of  this  man  of  God,  who  has  just  been  taken 
away  from  us.  Bishop  Andrew  had  often  been  a 
guest  at  his  own  board.  Among  his  most  valuable 
reminiscences  were  these  visits  of  the  good  Bishop. 
His  prayers  for  the  family  would  never  be  forgotten. 
The  Bishop  always  accompanied  his  '  good-by '  with 
*  God  bless  you,  Albert' 

"  Dr.  L.  M.  Smith,  President  of  Emory  College, 
next  paid  an  eloquent  and  touching  tribute  to  the 
worth  and  virtues  of  the  great  Prince  and  Leader, 
who  had  just  fallen.  In  the  judgment  of  Dr.  Smith, 
Bishop  Andrew,  in  his  palmy  days,  was  the  ablest 
gospel  preacher  of  the  age.  In  the  sweep  of  his  im- 
agination he  was  more  than  Shakespearean  and  Mil- 
tonic.  And  while  this  was  so,  he  was  beautifully 
simple  and  gentle.    He  had  known  him  intimately  in 


James  Osgood  Andrciv. 


561 


all  the  relations  of  life — he  too  had,  in  his  college  days 
at  Emory,  been  a  member  of  the  Bishop's  household. 
He  gladly  and  cheerfully  confessed  that  for  whatever 
of  good  there  was  in  him,  he  was  more  indebted  to 
Bishop  Andrew  than  to  any  other  man  living  or  dead. 
And  to  his  faithful  ministrations  in  the  pulpit,  and  to 
his  fatherly  advice  in  private  and  around  the  family 
circle,  he  owed  his  own  conversion  to  the  faith  as  it  is 
in  Jesus.  The  eloquent  Doctor  concluded  with  a 
glowing  reference  to  the  glorious  band  of  redeemed 
souls,  who,  saved  through  Bishop  Andrew's  instru- 
mentality, should  follow  after  him,  to  be  greeted  by 
him,  when  they  too  shall  have  safely  crossed  the  flood. 

Brother  Potter  concluded  with  a  brief  reference  to 
the  Bishop's  connection  with  Emory  College.  Oxford 
was  the  spot  he  loved  dearest  on  earth.  Emory  Col- 
lege, of  which  from  its  foundation  down  to  his  death, 
he  had  been  an  honored  Trustee,  was  nearest  to  his 
heart.  Therefore  in  Oxford  he  wished  his  mortal  re- 
mains to  rest,  side  by  side  with  the  loved  ones  whom 
he  had  buried  there." 

My  work  is  done.  I  have  already  passed  the  limit 
which  I  had  set  for  myself,  and  am  obliged  to  omit 
many  of  his  letters,  and  especially  the  kind  and  af- 
fectionate tributes  of  his  friends.  I  regret  this  much. 
Drs.  McFerrin,  Summers,  Mitchell,  Cunnyngham, 
and  others,  at  my  instance,  made  contributions  to 
these  pages  which  I  am  obliged  to  leave  out.  I  re- 
gret this,  and  I  regret  especially  the  necessary  omis- 
sion of  his  many  touching  and  beautiful  letters  to  his 
children,  but  I  have  already  gone  as  far  as  I  judge 
best. 

24* 


562  James  Osgood  Andrew. 


It  is  needless  for  me  to  add  anything  of  my  own. 
The  man  stands  before  the  reader;  he  can  judge  of 
him  with  his  own  eye. 

I  doubt  whether  I  could  be  impartial.  The  man 
who  was  my  grandfather's  companion  in  the  ministry, 
who  was  my  mother's  pastor,  who  was  my  father's 
life-long  friend,  and  who  was  to  me  as  a  father  always, 
could  not  be,  perhaps,  justly  estimated  by  me.  May 
those  to  whom  this  book  is  dedicated,  those  who  take 
up  the  work  he  left  off,  catch  the  inspiration  of  this 
story. 


THE  END. 


DATE  DUE 


]_J012  01036  1345 


